Past of Assassins
by Valkyrie Black Water
Summary: Dozens of stories tell of when Hawkeye and Black Widow meet, but what about before? Before they met, before they were agents and before they learned they had value and an important role to play? The early lives up to becoming avengers are unknown, until now. (Rated T for slight child abuse, no gruesome details, I just want to be safe)
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Orphaned

"Mom! Mommy? Wake up, mommy!" a shrill voice rang in the air. Sirens blared, the dead bodies of the boy's mother and father lay prone on the asphalt. "Dad? Dad, mom won't wake up! Dad?"

"Shut up Clint!" A kick silenced the seven-year-old and his twelve-year-old brother scowled.

"But Barney," an urgent whisper escaped the little boy.

"I said shut up!" Another kick ensured that Clint wouldn't speak another word. Barney rummaged through the wreaked of the hit and run. He grabbed the drugs his father had been about to sell. Even at twelve, Barney had been helping his father in both drug dealing and abusing the youngest Barton for two years. Cop cars and medics pulled up and Barney threw the drugs into the river before anyone could see. "Now you don't say anything about the drugs do you hear? Or I'll give you a beating you'll never forget." A defiant glare met him but a raised hand made him nod quickly.

A cop lady ran over to the two boys. "Are you alright?"

Barney let out a fake sob, "Mom and dad? Are they dead?"

The cop didn't reply, "Let's get you two checked out." She led the two boys over to the ambulance as medics rushed to perform CPR on the two adults. They checked Barney first and gave the okay, but when they lifted Clint on the table he let out a whimper of pain. The medic lifted the boy's shirt and then motioned another medic over.

"This is a nasty bruise, I wouldn't be surprised if it damaged the rib." The second medic declared.

"Yes, but look at the shape." The first medic frowned. "It looked like a shoe. That didn't come from the crash. He was beaten." They conversed a while longer, but Clint managed to wiggle off the table. He tried to make a dash for it when his brother grabbed his wrist and dragged off at a run. "Hey! Come back!" The medic shouted but the boys dodged and weaved and escaped into an alley a few blocks away.

Barney finally let go of his wrist and Clint bent over to catch his breath when a kick sent him sprawling. "You just had to open your big mouth!"

"I didn't…" A punch silenced Clint cry of protest. He tried to defend himself, but Barney dodged easily. Luckily for Clint, Barney was smart and knew an injured Clint was a useless Clint. After a few more kicks he dragged him to his feet.

"Right now, I'm all you've got. So you do as I say." Barney hissed. "If you get hurt, you don't make a sound, you don't let anybody know. Your life depends on it." He dropped his little brother in a bundle on the ground and started pacing and thinking out loud. "We need to lie low for a few months. Maybe we can join a gang or something. We'll need to steal food, pickpocket and run. The stealthier we are the better chance we have at survival." He muttered and grumbled to himself, then turned to Clint. "We need to keep moving, come on." He yanked his brother to his feet and dragged him behind as they continued into the maze of alleyways of the city, and into the cold darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:Kidnapped

The red-haired green-eyed girl glared at the blonde woman who pushed her into the room. A dozen eyes stared at the five-year-old as she crossed her arms and stuck out her lower lip. Her mind was made up. She was not going in there. A man raised his belt but the woman stopped him. "No Ipati," she purred "I can handle this."

"Yes, Matron," Ipati replied. The Matron merely closed the door, forcing the girl to stay in the room as she locked it. The message was clearly conveyed. You have no power. "Welcome to your new home Natalia." The cold voice stated with no emotion whatsoever. The girl was pushed toward a bed between to other girls of similar age.

She shook her head, "I don't want…" The protest was cut off by a sharp slap. A cry escaped the girl and the woman grabbed her wrist.

"тишина!(Silence!)" She shoved the girl on the bed and in one swift movement cuffed her to it. She turned and left the room with an utter silence that scared the girl more than the slap and the cuffs.

She curled up, not daring to cry. She gasped as sobs tried to burst from her. Her family was dead. Gasp. She was in a dangerous place. Gasp. She was alone in the dark. Gasp. She couldn't escape. Gasp. She was all alone. Gasp. Mommy was gone. Two gasps. Daddy was gone. Two more gasps. Ivan was dead. A quiet sob. She almost broke down when a soft voice from the next bed whispered, "Are you okay?" The girl looked up, unfallen tears in her eyes, and she nodded. "What's your name?"

She hesitated. "Natalia Romanova."

"I'm Annika Corinka." The other girl said. Silence. "Do you want to be friends?" Silence.

"Okay." An unlikely friendship started, that night, and Annika became Natalia's mentor.

"This is the Red Room." She stated, she was clearly enjoying sharing her knowledge. "They train us to be a-ssass-ins. I don't know what that is but I don't like the training. You have to be perfect at everything. They don't give you much food, and if you make a mistake…" She shuddered.

"I want to go home," Natalia whispered.

"Me too, but they won't let us," Annika whispered sadly. " But I heard when we get bigger and gooder, we can leave! I'm going to go home to see my family! What about you?"

Natalia shook her head, "They went to the sky to live in the clouds." She replied shakily "I want to go with them!"

Annika let out a gasp. "But then we couldn't be friends." Natalia considered this then nodded slowly. She opened her mouth to reply when the door opened.

"Молчать! Вы все! (Silence! All of you!) If I have to tell you again you won't be able to move for days!" He snapped his belt as emphasis, then slammed the door. The silence stretched on for minutes before Natalia said in a small whisper. "I'm glad I didn't go to play in the sky. You're a good friend Annika."

Annika smiled. "Me too."

"доброй ночи.(Goodnight)"

"доброй ночи"

The next morning the door opened and the girls were uncuffed from their beds. They were given a lump of stale bread, lead outside. It was snowing, but the man and the blonde lady didn't seem to care. The children shivered in their thin shorts and shirts, and the man and lady marched up and down the row, reciting. "You have no place in the world." Over and over. One girl collapsed. She was yanked to her feet. Another started to cry. The belt cracked. After thirty minutes. Natalia and Annika stood next to each other when Annika swayed and started to fall. Natalia caught her and immediately the belt descended. "Never help anyone unless they can help you or you need their trust. Never grow soft and care for another." By the time it was over Natalia was silently curled up in the snow, with black and blue bruises already beginning to form. After another hour they were brought inside. And went straight to hand to hand combat. All the girls were bruised and bleeding. They were given a lesson on how to patch themselves up. Then sent to various other classes. By the end of the day, they collapsed exhausted in bed.

"Thank you," Annika whispered.

"You're welcome," Natalia replied.

"доброй ночи.(Goodnight)"

"доброй ночи"

By the end of the week, the girls had been put through the process so many times, they had actually gotten used to the cold. Could dodge in combat, and heal a small bruise. Natalia was feeling, not happy, but more confident that she could survive. Until she woke up screaming from a nightmare of her family's death. And for the second time, that week curled up in bed with a black and blue back, thinking wistfully of her family, playing in the clouds, wishing with all her little heart, for her and Annika to join them.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: The Pickpocket Went a Step too Far

Seven years. For Seven years Clint had been with the circus. After getting him and Barney out of a sticky situation only a week after living on the street, they had joined the Circus of Crime. And Clint was hoping that those seven years of pickpocketing from their customers and even performing trick shots in the shows would pay off. They didn't. He was on his own. Typical. He skidded and turned, racing down another alleyway. He had been stupid to pickpocket the lady, but she had looked so promising. The fourteen-year-old scrambled over a wall as footsteps echoed behind him. "He's down here sir!" the call echoed and Clint cursed a few colorful words he had picked up over the years. He ran a risky gamble and ducked into an alley the lead back to the street. And cursed a few new words as he lost his gamble. The woman had her gun out and glared daggers at him.

"Drop the purse."She hissed. He turned to run, and the two men rounded the corner. He held up his hands as they pointed their guns at him.

"Drop the purse kid." The black man with a fly eyepatch, and a younger brown-haired man wearing a suit. Clint slowly lowered it to the ground, and grabbed a large rock, hitting the younger man in the forehead knocking him out cold. He abandoned the purse hitting the ground as shots rang overhead, he vaulted over a wall, and fell into a dumpster, he wiggled further in and hoped that they wouldn't find him. "Hill! Coulson's down." The black man spoke, and Clint winced. He hoped he hadn't hurt him too badly.

"Do we need medevac, Sir?" Hill replied. A pause "No, he's coming round. If I find that punk I'm gonna beat the snot outta him." Clint snuggled deeper into the trash.

"Ugg." Coulson groaned.

"You okay Phil?" Hill asked.

"I'm fine, Hill, sir. Did he steal anything?"

"No," Fury replied. "He was just some punk, he wasn't working for anyone."

"Good." Coulson groaned again. "Wait where's my debit card." He sighed. "Nevermind, let's go."

Clint could hear the scrambling of feet, and some groans and a few "Steady"s before they left. He climbed out, flicking a banana peel off his shoulder and spitting put something he didn't want to think about. He leaped onto a wall and jogged back to the circus when he heard, thuds and grunt from an alleyway nearby. A tourist was getting mugged. He hesitated, then silently dropped to the ground behind the thugs. He grabbed the discarded wallet and watch, then leaped silently back on the wall and a couple of well-aimed stones freed the tourist and he limped away. He wasn't cruel. Those thugs didn't need to keep at that guy. They had got what the came for. If they were going to be jerks, he didn't mind taking the loot. But he certainly wasn't soft-hearted enough to give back the wallet and watch. He gracefully raced across the walls, until he was just outside the circus. He strolled up to the tent, tossing the loot in the air and catching it effortlessly. Brutus met him outside, the evening sunlight lighting up his scowl for the world to see.

"Hey man." Clint whistled. "You get any loot today?" Brutus growled then broke out in a grin. He liked Clint. Everybody liked Clint. Everybody except Barney and Clint liked Clint.

"Nice job kid." The teen bent in an exaggerated bow, then entered the tent. It was bustling, and while at first glance it appeared to be a normal circus, a close look would reveal the stolen goods bin, labeled lost and found, had an abnormal amount of wallets cash, watches, and other valuables. The boxes looked harmless at first until you noticed the drugs that were being stuffed inside peanuts. And the bootleg rum that was being sold in pop bottles. Clint dropped the loot in the bin and noticed Barney supervising the drug operation. He had quickly been recognized for his skill and intelligence in the drug business. He had risen to the top and the third in command, even though he was only seventeen. He hadn't changed one bit. He wasn't afraid to use force to get his way, but his silver tongue had saved the circus two times already. He noticed Clint staring at him and began marching towards him. Clint cursed. Stay out of sight, stay in the shadows, was that so hard. But nooo! He had to go poking his nose in others business. And he fully expected Barney to send two of his goons to teach him a lesson in an alleyway tonight. But no emotion passed on his face. Barney had done one good thing. He had taught him not to show his feelings. As Barney scowled down at him, he put on his best defense. Humor. "Good day for peanut stuffing right?"

"What are you doing lazing around." He snapped. "You should be out there stealing things like a good little urchin instead of getting in the way of the important things!"

"I thought," Clint said slowly, and loud enough to draw a crowd, "that pickpocketing was important to the circus?" He scrunched up his face in an exaggerated expression of confusion. "That is why the Ringmaster ordered it right?" A few murmurs. He had attention.

Barney practically growled. "Where do you think the money for the food that keeps your useless self alive comes from?"

"Useless." Clint made a show of looking hurt. "But I thought I was the best Pickpocketer in the circus? Do you mean my whole life is a lie?" Some chuckling. Good.

"The best you're good for is the freak act." Barney spat venomously.

"Really?" Clint beamed. "You mean you think I'm good enough to work alongside you?" Laughter. Laughter was good.

"The only reason your here is because you happened to be with me. The only smart decision you made in your life. Oh wait, you were only with me because you killed our parents!"

Laughter. Not good laughter. Clint's stomach twisted in anger but he knew he couldn't let Barney win. "So you're saying that the Ringmaster made a mistake? But I thought Mistokki didn't make mistakes?" Some ooooooohs and an oh snap, but for the most part, it was silent. Maybe, for the second time that day, he had gone just a step too far. As made evident by the massive hands that lifted him off his feet, and the fist that plowed into his gut.

"Never." Another punch "Question" another punch "My loyalty" a kick "again"

Cheering filled the tent, and Clint had reached his last straw. He hated being helpless, he hated being hit, and he hated being made a laughing stock. He kicked out, hitting his brother square in the chest, before using the momentum to wrench out of the grip of Barney's bodyguards. He lobbed his shoe at Barney, breaking his nose and threw his knife with the intent of burying it in his brother's shoulder.

An arrow hit the knife, knocking on the ground. Clint felt his stomach twist into a knot as he looked up at Trickshot and the Ringmaster. "Clint?" A deceptively calm voice echoed from the Ringmaster, and the entire tent was silent. "What is the rule about attacking your superiors?" He asked like a preschool teacher.

"Don't do it," Clint replied.

"Exactly! And why is that?"

"They are too valuable to lose in petty squabbles." Clint recited.

" Very good! So what do you say to your brother?"

The words stuck in Clint's throat but he got them out. "Sorry for trying to kill you."

"Sir." The Ringmaster's voice didn't change, yet somehow was colder and harder.

"Sir," Clint ground out. "I'm sorry for trying to kill you, sir."

The smug look on Barney's face made Clint wish he had thrown the knife sooner or at least aimed for a more painful place, but Barney's jubilee had come to an end.

"Barney, my office." The Ringmaster ordered. "Now."

The whole tent let out a slow "ooooooooh!"

The look of humiliation on Barney's face made Clint's own worth it. Clint slipped out into the dusk and looked down at the debit card he had picked up off the brown-haired man, Coulson when he had first taken the lady's purse. He was in the mood for some candy. He raced across town to the 99c store and bought some cigar candy, root beer barrels, sunflower seed, and gummy worms. He also got some soda pop and popcorn. The cashier raised an eyebrow as he dumped the stuff on the counter.

"My dad gave me his card and told me to go stuff myself and see a movie. I took his advice." The cashier shrugged like this was completely normal and everything went through without a hitch. He bought a ticket to see "My Favorite Martian" and enjoyed the evening. He went to ice cream parlor and tried to buy a sundae, but apparently, his activities had not gone unnoticed. He took the now useless debit card and taped it to the wall of the candy store with a note saying, "Lost Debit Card! If found please return to owner. Don't bother stealing, the owner blocked the card." He added a sad face and left it, feeling better about the day.

When he got back later that night, Trickshot was waiting for him. "The Ringmaster has a task for you." Clint raised an eyebrow. Trickshot handed Clint a picture of a man in a well-pressed suit. "This is Alexander Pierce. He is a high-ranking government official. We need you to steal his briefcase."

Clint couldn't keep the shock out of his voice. "What?" He exclaimed. "But if I'm caught, I'll be charged for treason! I'll be hanged!"

"Better not get caught then." Trickshot was already leaving. "Oh, and I wouldn't worry about being hanged, they use electric chairs now. Much more painful." The archer's laughter echoed in the night as he left the teen standing with a choice between death and death. Clint spat on the ground. So much for having his back and being his family. He swore never to trust anyone besides himself ever again. Marching inside, he grabbed his bow, armed himself with a few throwing knives, seized a wallet, and stormed into the night. If he was going to die, he might as well get it over with.

The next morning he lay on a roof near to the official's hotel room. Clint took careful aim praying that this worked. He shot the briefcase, and gorilla glue and ducktape splattered over it. He shot again, hoping the Pierce would stay in the shower for just a little longer. He was reeling the briefcase in when the door burst open and a string of colorful curses echoed out from both Clint and the man, who Clint realized was Coulson. The man sprang forward, grabbing the case right before it came out the window. Clint threw a rock, knocking Coulson out, again, but the arrow was no longer attached to the case. More men in suits rushed in and one shouted, pointing at Clint's perch. Clint felt a horrible gut-wrenching sensation. He had failed his mission. He had two choices, turn himself into the government, and hope for jail time instead of execution, or turn himself into the Circus of Crime, and hope that the promise to always protect their own would still apply. He doubted either of those would end in his survival. So he took his third option. Run for all he was worth. Run and run and never look back. He would be wanted by both the authorities and the underworld. He would have to always be on guard, always assume the worst, and never look back. He made up his mind and turned running down the fire escape, and into the unknown.

* * *

Coulson groaned, swearing mentally to find that punk and help Fury teach him a lesson or two. He glanced up out the window and saw the kid on the roof nearby. Even though it was almost five hundred feet away, he could clearly see the fear in the kid's eyes as he got up and ran. Coulson had been recruited two years ago, fresh outta high school. He had seen some messed up stuff, green aliens impersonating people, a young woman who was powerful beyond belief, and heard the stories of Nick Fury's eye, that was lost in a Kree interrogation, though Hill was convinced that Fury's cat Goose was responsible. But even with all that stuff, the worst had to be seeing a kid being used for the underworld's purposes, and also to take the fall for it. Agents rushed out, but the look in the kid's eyes stayed with him, and Coulson made a new promise. No matter how far he had to go, how long he had to search, he would find that kid, give him a better life, a big hug, and promise that he would never be alone again. And a lesson in manners.


	4. Chapter 4

**I just wanted to thank Grammarosprey for catching that spelling error and the reviews! This chapter was inspired by Dark times by ICTHBH1TSTBNC, it's a good story. Hope I didn't go too dark on this! Hehehe enjoy!**

Chapter 4: Death of a Comrade 

Natalia woke as the door to the bedroom opened. Ipati and the Matron walked immediately to where Natalia and Annika were sitting up. "You have a mission," Ipati stated. "You are to capture this man," he held up a picture. "And bring him to us. He is a traitor, and must be dealt with." Natalia and Annika nodded. At twelve years old, they no longer needed the handcuffs to keep them in their beds at night, and that meant time to smuggle food. They were fed the bare minimum, once every three weeks. The rest of the time they had to steal, or go on missions and buy or steal food there. The better you did on missions, the more you got and the more food you ate. Natalia was at the point where she normally got food once or twice a week. Once, when she was eight, had been so successful that she ate once every day. Of course, the next week she had had nothing and quickly learned the skill of forethought. All of this flowed through her mind as she got up, ate some stale bread, went to the armory for some knives, and a gun. Most girls had a weapon to call her own, but Natalia didn't have one, yet. Annika grabbed a strangle wire, and in ten minutes there were driving to the nearby town of Bryskan.

They arrived and stepped out, easily blending into the crowd as two normal teenagers, complete with backpacks and obnoxious giggling. Really, Natalia didn't understand the constant giggling. It was loud, it gave away your location, and what did these girls have to giggle about? Boys? She mentally rolled her eyes. Maybe she was being too harsh, after all, she hadn't smiled since, since, was it the night she met Annika? Maybe, she pushed the thought away. It was in the past, and she needed to focus on the future. After five minutes, they located the target. Natalia almost balanced at the sight. This man was huge, almost seven feet tall, and very well muscled. The worst part was that he was intelligent. She could see it in his eyes. And he knew he was being followed, or at least suspected. This was by far the worst contract she had been given in her entire career. Natalia knew in an instant if they messed up, even a little bit, they would die, and the Red Room would hardly bat an eye. She looked at Annika and saw the same certainty reflected there. They spilt up, Annika going around to set the trap, and Natalia going to spring it. Annika would lead the man into an isolated alleyway, and while he was distracted, she would drop down and knock him out. It should have worked, it would have worked, if fate had not been so cruel, it would have. Fate was a jerk.

Annika stole the man's wallet and ducked weaving through the crowd, Natalia waited above in the right alley, and Annika lead him in. That's when a silenced bullet whips through the air and killed the man instantly. At first, Natalia was in shock, then a white-hot flash of rage and fear ripped through her. She suppressed it, like all her other emotions, and motioned Annika to go back to the car. They drove in silence, then Annika cursed. "Изнурять," she said it with no emotion. "We failed." She stated in Russian.

"Yes," Romanoff confirmed. "But they can't punish us, we couldn't do anything to stop it." The words were hollow, and they both knew they were false. The drove in silence, then Annika said. "When we were little, I asked if you wanted to be friends, you said yes." Natalia nodded. "I don't remember friends much but I know that it means we trust each other." Natalia nodded again. "Somebody knew we would be there, and what our plan was. There was someone on the inside. It wasn't you and it wasn't me." She said it like a statement, but there was a need for confirmation.

Natalia looked at Annika. "Yes."

Annika continued. "They will blame one of us. But I know who it is." Natalia glanced at her, face impassive, but reeling inside. "It was-" She was cut off as their car was surrounded. And the doors were yanked open, and Annika was dragged off, she tried to fight, but was restrained by the educators. Natalia was lead off into the Matron's office and ordered into a chair in front of the old woman.

"Natalia," She purred. "Tell me, why did you fail your mission?"

"The target was approaching my ambush sight when someone shot him in the head with a silenced gun, Ma'am."

'And?" Natalia was briefly stunned. What did she mean "and"? This was a test, but of what? "And your associate was the one who leaked your location and plan of attack!" The Marton snapped.

Natalia was angry, confused, and something else, she didn't know what it was, but she had felt it when an older girl had tried to take Annika's bread when they were still small. Like she wanted to protect her. "No! It wasn't her!"

"And what proof do you have of that." The Marton tone was not angry but harsh.

'She told me." As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she realized how pathetic they sounded, like something a child would say.

The Matron stared at her, then made a sound that Natalia didn't recognize. Was it laughter? But that was impossible, nobody laughed. Laughing was weak, and weakness was punished. But here was the Matron laughing. She laughed for a little longer then slammed her hand down on the table. "Fool," she hissed. "I asked for proof, pictures, video, reliable witnesses, were you with her the whole time?" Natalia shook her head. The Matron stood like the matter was closed. "Come." She commanded.

She led her out and into a room that was all too familiar. The target practice room and Annika was tied to a chair with a bleeding lip, swollen eye, and a chipped tooth. She was gagged and her hands tied behind her back. A gun was put into Natalia's hand. "She is a traitor. Traitors must die." The Matron said.

"NO!" Natalia spat. "She is no traitor."

"Really, who is it then."

"Someone who would benefit from this!"

"Shoot her."

"NO!"

"I said shoot!"

"N-" The gun was jerked up and before she could react, Ipati had made her fire the gun. Silence filled the room, then Natalia screamed, she collapsed, the world spinning as she vomited. And didn't dare look at Annika's body.

"Well done, you eliminated the threat. And with it, your weakness." Slowly, it started to make sense. They had set it up. They had set them up to fail. They had seen Annika as a threat to the future Black Widow and had eliminated it, and Natalia's spirit as well. She barely remembered the punishments. The pain was distant, all she could remember, was the look in Annika's face as she was dragged away, the unheard scream she had let out as Natalia murdered her best friend. The packet she had left on Natalia's bed, with Happy Birthday written on it and electricity omitting bracelets inside. Natalia vowed that she would never trust anyone again. Anyone who got to close, either betrayed her or died.


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you again Grammarosprey for your support! I even gave you an honorable mention. Enjoy! **

Chapter 5: The First Wall Falls

Clint shivered in the cold rain as it trickled down his face. It was dark and cold, about one in the morning, and he had been perched there for four hours. He glanced away from where his target was supposed to be leaving the building. Three teens, about his age, seventeen, were laughing as the exited an arcade. Suddenly a little boy ran to one of them the teen picked him up whirling him around in the air then smiled as the boy immediately fell asleep against his chest. Clint felt a tightness threatening to bring tears to his eyes. "No!" He spat to himself. Don't think of Barney. He was a mean selfish jerk. Really? After all that I've done for you? Barney's voice echoed through his mind. Clint shook himself and perked up as his target left the building. He took careful aim and fired. His target fell down dead, and Clint waited, then packed up his stuff and vanished.

After about eight minutes, he settled into his "house" which had been abandoned a few months ago and, for good reason, had yet to be bought, or even looked at. He turned on the TV he had bought at a thrift store and settled down with a luke-warm coke. Underaged drinking had been part of his life at the circus. If the personnel was addicted to the bootleg rum and drugs the circus provided, then said personnel would always rely on and be loyal to the circus. The withdrawal had been horrible, and Clint had nearly crawled back to the circus several times. He now despised all alcohol and drugs, even medication. So soda was his only option that was left that wasn't any of that healthy nonsense. He looked at the TV and felt his blood turn to ice. They were covering the death of his target, a rival drug lord who led a double life, and now were interviewing his wife. "I just can't understand why someone would want to kill him!" She cried. "He was such a nice man, he was supposed to be taking me out to dinner, but he was late. He's never late, so I called him and-" she was cut off by a little girl, about six years old, carrying a three-year-old running up to her.

"Mommy? Mommy, they're taking daddy away! Daddy was asleep and wouldn't wake up! Mommy?" The woman knelt down and hugged her children and the announcer turned back to the camera.

"And there you have it. A family's life ripped apart by the infamous Hawkeye. The police hope to one day put this heartless murder behind bars. And here's Officer Thompson to speak with us-" Clint abruptly shut off the TV, and stormed to the bedroom. He tossed himself onto the bed, not bothering to change into more comfortable clothes. He closed his eyes and willed sleep to overtake him. Big mistake. He was plagued with memories of his parent's death. He woke up sweating and panting, and couldn't go back to sleep. He lay there, thinking, and stiffened. There was a noise outside. Footsteps, whispering, and guns cocking. Someone had found him. He slowly got out of his bed and grabbed his bow and quiver. He crept onto the roof and froze. It was the government. They had found him. He waited until they crashed into the house, then leaped from roof to roof. He booked it for an hour, his pace never wavering and never looking back. Finally, he came to a stop, gasping for breath. He groaned as his sides screamed their protest, and his lungs burned as his throat struggled to provide him air. He collapsed in an alleyway behind a house, and panted, let out another groan, and let sleep overtake him. He woke up to a horrendous beeping sound, as a trash truck driver rudely gestured him to get out of the way. He groggily stumbled out of the alleyway, right into a cop. "Woah, steady there son." He blinks blearily at the officer before standing up straighter. "You okay kid?"

"Yeah." Clint modded stiffly. Cops made him nervous, but this one seemed nice and easy going.

"You sure buddy? How old are you?"

"Eighteen." He replied warily. He knew it was illegal for minors to sleep on the street, and as he had no parents, charges would probably be brought against him.

"How about I buy you some coffee kid. You look like you could use it."

Clint just stared, uncomprehending. Why was this man being nice to him? All he did was stumble into him and instead of cursing or kicking him, he had been nice. "Ummmmm. No thanks."

The cop shrugged. And handed him his own coffee, then smiled and reached into his car. Clint stiffened but all he pulled out was a box of doughnuts. Despite himself, Clint's stomach growled and the Cop laughed. He handed him a chocolate doughnut with pink frosting and rainbow sprinkles. Clint glances at in took a careful bite, and then wolfed the whole thing down in two seconds flat. The cops laughed again and handed him another. "Savor this one kid." Clint nodded and made to leave. " Hey kid, what's your name?"

"Clint." He replied without thinking.

"Well, you take care of yourself, Clint." The man called. "If you ever need help, ask for officer Grammar got it?" Clint nodded shouted a heartfelt thank you and vanished into the light morning fog. He followed Grammer's instructions and savored the coffee and doughnut. They were the most delicious things he had ever eaten. The kept the cup, even if it was just a takeout Starbucks coffee cup. He wandered the streets idly for the rest of the day. He went it to a store and bought a sandwich. It felt great to actually buy something. He ate half of it, before noticing an old man sitting right outside an alleyway. He had a tattered shirt on, but Clint could make out enough to tell it was a veteran. He paused looking at the man. The man looked back. And as if on impulse Clint handed the man the rest of the sandwich before walking away abruptly. Why had he done it? He hadn't owed the man anything. It certainly hadn't done him any good. But that night as he rested, stomach full, he thought, maybe, just maybe, it had lifted his heart just a little bit, the weight the murder of the father had put on his heart lessened. And he went to sleep, and no dreams plagued him that night.

Coulson muttered some curses under his breath as the report came in. The kid had escaped. This was the first time he had been able to pinpoint him and the had almost had him. They were so close. He glared at Goose when as the cat wandered into his office and leaped onto the chair. "Don't try anything." He warned. "Last time you were in here you peed on my favorite coat. Do you realize how much I cost to dry clean that thing?" The cat just meowed and leaped on the desk, purring and rubbing all over Coulson suit. He tried to maintain the glare but broke into a smile and stroked the feline. Who was he kidding? He loved the thing. He looked up carefully, making sure no one was looking then casually opened his desk and took out a bag of cat treats. He gave one to Goose who ate it and nosed him for another. He poured a few into his hand when a voice made him jump.

"Coulson!" Fury, no, Director Fury stood at the door, glaring at him as if to peer into his soul. "So you're the one responsible for making Goose fat."

"Ummm no it's not-" Goose bumped against his hand causing the treats to fall condemningly on the desk. "Traitor." He muttered to the cat who purred at him.

Fury cracked a smile. "How's your search going."

"We found him but he got away, sir."

Fury let out a hmmm of understanding, then turned to him. "Do you really think we need this kid, Coulson?"

"Yes, sir." He didn't hesitate. "He is very skilled and-" he paused and Fury nodded for him to continue. "I think he needs us too, sir."

Fury considered this, then frowned in thought. "Then Coulson, I need you to bring him in." Fury looked straight at Coulson. " If he's as valuable as you say, we're going to need him. So go get him. Bring him in, and train him to be the best Shield agent you can. Because we're going to need him."

Coulson nodded. "Yes, sir."

Fury nodded back and walked out the door. "How's Lola?"

Coulson smiled at the usually farewell. "She's good sir, thank you for asking."

Clint woke up feeling happy. It was not a normal feeling and it took him a few moments to identify it. He got up stretched, and the spat a curse as half a dozen sleek black vehicles pulled up in front of the alley. He leaped over a wall and raced away as shouts and noise caused him to speed up. A bullet grazed his arm and he swallowed a shout. He raced toward an alley where a group of children were playing when a man came around the corner pointing his gun. He had a sudden sense of déjà vu and was not at all surprised to see another man behind him. Clint made a split second decision, then grabbed one of the kids, and placed an empty, though he hoped these people didn't know, barrel to child's head. Her scream almost made him drop the gun, but he had survived this long and would not be brought down. "Drop the weapon, let the kid go!" One of the men ordered.

"Back away." Clint threatened.

A man, an oddly familiar man stepped from behind the first one. "Clint Barton. Drop the weapon and we can talk."

"Oh no." Clint snarled. "I'm done talking. If you wanted to talk maybe you shouldn't have broken into my house. And shooting people in the arm is not the best way to have a civil conversation with them."

Coulson didn't stop walking. "Put the gun down."

"Repeating won't help you."

"Put the gun down."

"Stop, back off or I'll shoot, I'll shoot." Coulson didn't stop walking, until he slowly grabbed Clint's shaky hand, then lowered it. Clint stopped fighting, his hand suddenly weak, and didn't resist as Coulson led him to a car, where he put him in the back seat. Clint stared out the window, why hadn't he put up a fight, he should fight. He should break out of the car. But he couldn't. He was tired. So tired of running. Of running from his past and his enemies. He found himself relaxing, even though he was surrounded by enemies, he felt, felt like he was safe for the moment. That it was okay to take a breather. That he could, for once, stop, and rest.


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry I haven't been updating as often. I've been sick, and then my school did this annoying this called finals. I will be updating more often in the summer. = D**

Chapter 6: Trapped

Dreykov. That was an easy enough name to remember. She sat in the taxi that would take her to the party. She hated this kind of job, but this was her contract, and she would not fail. She had graduated last month and already was famous for her skill. She never enjoyed her assignments, but this one was going to be particularly distasteful. She had a target she needed to hit tonight. She would infiltrate the party, get a look upstairs, eliminate the target, leave a note, then escape. She hated this kind of infiltration, because it usually required flirtation, and have rich slimeball ogling her made her want to stuff their heads up their-

"We're here ma'am." The diver said. Natalia tipped him and stepped out. She mentally groaned as immediately, Dreykov, a man she had met yesterday by "bumping into him" and getting invited to the party, pushed his way over with a wide smile.

"Nikita!" He gushed.

Natalia forced a giggle. "Dreykov! What a fantastic party!" After a few hours of dancing, drinking, and eating, Dreykov invited her upstairs for a drink.

"Vodka?" Dreykov asked already pouring two glasses. He brought them over and Natalia smiled sweetly.

"Brandy please." She hid a smirk as he looked a little annoyed, but covered it up with a smile a brought over her drink. "So, she sipped her drink. What do you do for a living?"

"Why I'm a banker my darling." She laughed, letting it sound a little tipsy.

"A banker couldn't afford a cupboard stocked full of Mendis Coconut Brandy, much less a cellar wall covered the stuff." She hiccuped a little. The brandy was horrible. It tasted like cyanide.

Dreykov looked surprised. "You are most observant. Alright, since you won't remember anything," He let out a dry chuckle. "I am also a drug lord."

"That's nice, sweetheart." Natalia slurred. She hiccuped and grabbed the bottle. She had a special pill that absorbed the alcohol, and she could hold her liquor. She started to drink from the bottle, then began choking. Dreykov laughed and grabbed the bottle from her. Then paled as he noticed that "Nikita" was about to lose what she had just put down.

"Down the hall to the left." She stumbled off and heard a disgusted snort. She straightened and walked to the daughter's room. Natalia opened the door and froze. When they had said Dreykov's daughter. She had imagined a whiny spoiled brat who expected the world to deliver. What she encountered, was a girl about six years old, with photos of her and her dad in heart frames. She had big pictures on the wall of her helping build a house in Africa, and holding hands with a little African girl. She felt a knot in her chest and fought it. From what she could tell, she was a girl who delivered herself to the world and didn't expect the world to deliver. The girl stirred in her sleep and smiled. Natalia felt a wave of something that she shoved down, but not before identifying it as jealousy. She was jealous of a six-year-old girl. She shook herself. She still had a mission. She unsheathed her knife and stepped closer. Then turned around. She took the blade and stabbed the note on the door. Then turned back to the girl. She woke up. The girl woke up and stared at Natalia, and opened her mouth to scream…

Natalia sat on the rooftop of her hotel. She had made a clean escape. She didn't even care. She sat staring at nothing, trying and failing to block the memories of both Dreykov's daughter's and Annika's death. The same fear, the same silent scream, and the same murderer. She sat still in the night, ignoring the biting cold, the rain, and her muscles cramping. The sun broke over the horizon hours later, and she stood up from her trance. She wanted to run. But she couldn't. She was trapped. She climbed down into her room, and showered, ate a small bowl of cereal, and picked up a letter from the mailbox. She opened the letter, read it, and burned it. Her new mission: San Paulo, information upon arrival.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summer is here! Yay! Though, I'm addicted to Breath of the Wild so I will try to update at least every other day. Lol. Thank you Grammarosprey, m klindt, and TimeBlaze for taking the time to review my story! Hope you enjoy this!**

Chapter 7: Father Figure

"The gun wasn't loaded. But you already knew that didn't you." Coulson sat down in front of Clint with an important looking file. Clint just stared at the floor in front of him, not bothering to answer. "Not that it would have mattered, you wouldn't have shot her anyway." Still no response. "She didn't know that." Clint flinched and Coulson leaned back in his chair. So the kid did have a conscious. "Tell me, why did you become an assassin?"

Clint shrugged. "Good money." Coulson knew it was a lie or at least only part of the truth. The kid was trying to look tough, heartless, but Coulson knew he still had human left in him. He knew what that was like. It never worked for long.

"Tell me about yourself. Your past." Coulson invited.

Clint shrugged. "Why? You wouldn't care anyway." Coulson had heard many responses to that question. That was not one of them.

"Try me." Clint did his best to ignore the man but his intense yet gentle stare was making it hard. He shrugged again.

"I killed my parents, went to work for the circus of crime, became an assassin, then got kidnapped by a bunch of people with an unhealthy obsession with black suits."

"How did you kill your parents?"

"I…" Clint didn't know what to say. He had never considered that Barney had been lying all those years. How had he been responsible? He thought for a moment. "I don't know. I guess I wasn't. That's just what he always told me."

"Who?"

"Barney, my older brother."

"Barney, like the purple dinosaur?"

Clint suppressed a flinch when he remembered a little boy asking that question when they had first come to the circus. Clint wasn't sure if the boy had survived. But the ambulance took him, and that was the last he had ever seen of him.

He nodded in answer, but Coulson could sense his hesitation. He had a suspicion, well more he knew, and stood up. "I'll send medic down to patch up your arm." He left sent a text to medical.

Patch up the kid, and give him an examination, He probably has some stuff that didn't heal properly.

Yes, sir. Omw.

What?

Omw.

Yes, I got that part what does it mean?

On My Way

Why didn't you just say that?

Gtg

What?

Got To Go, sir.

Clint sat staring at the ground. It wasn't very interesting, but it was better than staring out of the mirror that people could see him through, but he couldn't see out of. His thoughts were swirling, when four men came in. Two were obviously soldiers. They had machine guns and full armor. The other two were medics, one of them looked flustered and the other was obviously trying not to laugh. Clint didn't know what these people had to laugh about. Coulson entered, and he suddenly felt the urge to impress him. They led him to a room that smelled like hand sanitizer. The medic grabbed his arm and looked at it carefully, then put something on it. Clint bit back a hiss of pain. But his outward appearance didn't change. He stayed still but kept a wary eye on everybody while the medics finished their examination. He hadn't had one since the night his parents died.

Coulson took him to his office and sat down across the desk. An orange cat wandered in and sniffed his leg, then sat down next to him. "Are you ready to tell me about the circus?" Clint shrugged. "Look, kid, I need what's in your head, yes, but we also need you. I'm giving you a chance to do it in private, without a bunch of snobs who think that they understand what we go through, listening in and judging you. So you have right now to tell me or-"

He was cut off by the cat jumping on the table and rubbing his face. Coulson jerked back spitting out cat hair. "Goose! Bad cat!" Goose just yawned then pawed at his desk. "No. You just lost that privilege." Goose mewed pitifully and Clint cracked a smile. "Goose no! Now git! Shoo." He tried to pick up the feline, but it went slack in his hands and dropped back on the desk. "Off!" Goose purred and rubbed against him again. Clint lost it. He snickered, then laughed. Goose batted at him, then began stalking him. Coulson began laughing too, and they laughed like idiots for a few minutes before it subsided. Goose flicked his tail then raced out of the room all puffed up like he was under attack. Fury opened the door right when Goose reached it and the cat climbed up the man like a tree and hid behind his head.

"Coulson! What did you do to my cat?" Coulson had thought he had seen Fury mad, but this was a whole new level. Forget being framed, or ignored when he had relevant information, this was his new top.

"Nothing sir. He-"

"Nothing? Does this look like nothing to you?" He gestured to the cat hiding behind his head. I've seen Goose normal, and that is not- Goose!" Apparently, the cat had gotten over its fear of the crazy humans, because he began eating Fury's hair. "Goose will you cut that out!"

"That is what happened, sir," Coulson said with a straight face.

"I want you to finish this interrogation, while I'm getting a haircut!" Fury whirled around a marched out of the room, muttering some very colorful words to his cat.

The next few minutes were spent with Clint regaling Coulson with tales of his life, and the circus of crime. He had no qualms betraying them. They had betrayed him first. After he was finished he and Coulson went out to a nearby cafe to grab some lunch. Coulson was astounded when he heard the Clint had never had or even heard of a malt. Clint thought that he liked Shield very much.

"So are you in?" Coulson asked. Clint jerked his head back from the waitress he was checking out. "With us."

"Oh. Ummm." Clint thought. He was choosing between facing justice, running, or joining a faceless organization. It should have been a no brainer, but something told him that running wouldn't work. Also, he was tired of always looking over his shoulder. He sipped his malt slowly, then nodded. "Yeah, I'm in."

"Good." Coulson waved a waiter over. "You made a good call."

"Bad call! Very bad call!" Clint shouted as he ran while bullets ricocheted around him.

"Well, maybe you should have gone to your actual left!" Coulson replied over the earpiece.

"I did!"

"That was your right!"

"No that was my left and your right!"

"We are facing the same direction!"

Clint ducked behind a building. "Now we're not!"

Coulson sighed. "Okay, now go to your RIGHT!" Clint ran off in that direction. "See that building? Get to the roof." Clint ran, he was almost there, when a bullet crashed into his leg. He went down as he cried out in pain. "Barton? Where are you hit."

"Leg, it grazed me. I'm fine." He struggled to his feet and saw the waitress from the cafe staring at him. "Uhhh, we're filming for a TV show."

"You have a bullet in your leg!"

"Umm no I don't." He denied weakly.

"You were just shot in the leg!"

"Special effect?"

"Clint get out of there!" Coulson ordered.

"Umm, I got to go, ummm. What's your name?"

"Clint!"

"Laura."

"Can I have your number?"

"BARTON!"

"Never mind, bye Laura!" He took off running.

"Barton, do you know how many protocols you just broke?"

"What?"

"You asked a girl for her number while on a mission!"

"So?"

"What do you mean so!? If you don't get up here right now I'll put you on KP duty for a year!" Clint ran faster. "I'm counting to three!One!" Clint reached the roof. "Two!" He sprinted towards the quinjet. "Thr- Barton?" The young man sprinted onto the quinjet gave a cocky smile, then collapsed.

He woke up in the infirmary. With Coulson speaking. "Clint, you're safe." It was a little thing they had come up with after Barton had broken IV needles, a few noses, and even a crash cart once. No one was sure how he managed that one. He opened his eyes and groaned. It was too bright. "Do you realize how stupid that was?" Coulson snapped angrily.

"Yes." Clint groaned. "My head hurts now. I should have kept my eyes closed."

"Not that!" He gave a frustrated growl. "You said the bulletin grazed you! That was definitely not a graze. You're running made you bleed out more as your heart pumped faster!"

"But I don't have to do KP duty. It was worth it."

"I need to be able to trust you, Clint. You need to tell me exactly what is going on!"

"Sure."

"Good." Coulson paused. "And about the girl…" Coulson launched into a lecture. About five minutes later he noticed Clint had fallen asleep. He smiled, then touched the bed. "Night kid." He got up and sighed taking out a notebook.

Bartonize:

I've eaten- I ate within the past few days.

Nothing- everything

Yes-no

No-yes

Fine-everything is wrong

I'm not tired-going to fall over

Leave me alone-stay

Grazed-hit

Sure-stop talking already


	8. Chapter 8

**Hi everybody! Sorry for the wait. I got writers whatever-you-call-it-when-you-can't-express-what-your-trying-to-say. I hope you enjoy this! Warning: I was feeling a bit salty, so I decided to mess with you guys. Mwahahaha! Please don't kill me. **

Chapter 8: Race to the Finish

"She's not here." Clint fretted.

"Good thing too," Coulson replied through his pancakes. You probably creeped her out last time you met."

"What? No!" Clint denied.

"Hi." The two men looked up to see Laura smiling down at them. "How's the leg?"

"It's fine. I'm fine, good." He stammered. Then cleared his throat. "How are you?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Good as in 'I'm trying to look tough' or good as in actually good." Coulson choked on his coffee.

"Good as in I'm actually good." Clint glared at Coulson, who had gained a sudden interest in his pancake.

Clint was chatting with Laura when Coulson looked at his phone. "We need to go." He nodded to Laura. "It was nice to meet you." She smiled, "you too…" she looked at him.

"Phil." He supplied.

"Ummm, Laura?" Clint suddenly seemed nervous. "Could I umm, do you want to go out? Like to for food. Together? Umm, ya know like here or whatever umm yeah...yeah?"

Coulson smirked as he put on his sunglasses and began walking to the door. Who knew that self-assured, cocky, street-hardened Clint could be reduced to an awkward nervous mess of a teenager.

"I was wondering when you were going to ask that. Of course!"

"Really?"

"Clint we have to go!"

"Coming, bye, Laura!"

"What time?"

"Oh uhh. Just text me."

"I don't have your number!"

"Oh ummm."

She sighed, exasperated, but still smiling. "Here." she handed him a piece of paper. "Text me soon."

Clint started, then broke into a wide smile. Yes, ma'am!" He gave a goofy salute, then turned and fled out the door after Coulson who was still smirking. "Don't say a word."

"About what?" Coulson asked innocently. Clint glared at him and he smiled. But then, his grin faded. "You have a mission."

"Ok." Clint got into the car.

"You need to be on high alert." Coulson seemed worried, and that made Clint worried. "There's a children's hospital, and one of the doctors has information on a drug trafficking group that might have ties to A.I.M. but we think they know that we know. They'll have hired people to keep him quiet, and we can't let that happen. We need to get him out of there quickly."

Clint nodded. "Do you think that I should take her out here or somewhere else?"

"Barton!"

"Yes, I heard. Don't let the dude die cause he could lead us to Aim I think I'll go somewhere else eating there would be weird."

"Clint. This is important. You can't be distracted. You need to have your head in the game."

"Ok," Clint replied absently.

"Clint please." That got his attention.

"Of course sir. I won't let you down."

"Thank you." Coulson started up the car and pulled out of the parking space. "And you should take her out. It would be weird taking her to where she works."

* * *

Natalia crouched on the roof, glaring down at the black cars as they pulled up in front of the hospital. Nothing could ever go smoothly on a mission, could it? Something or someone just had to mess it up. She shrugged mentally. She could work around it. A group of agents got out of the cars, but one caught her eye. He was wearing, a good old fashion bow complete with a quiver, and she could tell he knew how to use it. She couldn't help but admire how well it was hidden. Most untrained eyes wouldn't have been able to spot the weapons. The man turned and looked up at her building, and Natalia dropped to the ground and wiggled back. The sun was in his eyes so he probably didn't see her, but she had a feeling he still had.

* * *

Barton felt the back of his neck prickle and whipped his head around to look at the building behind him. A shape vanished but he could make out enough to tell it was a person. "What do you see?" Agent May asked. The woman was the same age as Coulson and the senior agent on this mission. She was a tiny little Asian woman who had a sense of humor and a mischievous streak that Clint could relate to. She could also fight like a panther. They got along fairly well.

"I saw someone on that building over there watching us."

May stared. "I can barely make out the building with the sun in my eyes."

Clint snorted. "Maybe you need glasses."

May playfully punched him in the arm He tensed, then relaxed. "Come on Hawkeye." She teased.

"Hey!" Coulson protested over comms. "How come he gets a cool nickname?"

"What would we call you? You don't have any superpowers!" Clint retorted.

"Unless you count fangirling over Captain America!" May snickered.

"How about Sergeant Fan Girl?" Clint offered.

"Or Captain Stalker?" May contributed.

"Or-"

"I think I'll just make do without one," Coulson replied hurriedly.

"Whatever you say sarg." May and Clint said in unison. Coulson sighed and the two chuckled.

"How did you know that was my code name," Clint asked May.

She looked at him. "I read your file, duh."

"Oh." Clint felt a little stupid.

"No, you didn't." Coulson sounded gleeful. "You just asked me to tell you stuff so you didn't have to read the file but still know everything."

"I-that's- oh shut up Coulson," May growled. Clint smiled. He was growing to like it here.

"If you children are all done squabbling, we have a mission." Hill's voice entered the conversation.

"Yes, ma'am." They all chorused. Clint fell silent, but not before glancing back at4 the person who was hidden on the roof. He felt a nasty pit growing in his stomach.

* * *

Natalia raced through the alleyway. She had to get in a eliminate the threat before the enemy got there. She vaulted over a wall, then quickly changed into a nurses outfit. She walked in through the back door and made her way up to her target, Doctor Valentine. She entered the room and came face to face with the young man who had almost spotted her.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" She gasped as she bumped into him, relieving him of his belt knife in the process."

He looked startled, then smirked. "That's ok. I enjoyed it." She pretended to blush while chinging inwardly. That was the best he could come up with? She hurried past him and began talking to the doctor, trying to get him out of the room.

* * *

Clint felt his whole face catch on fire. That was the lamest line he had ever heard. And it had just left his mouth. "Wow cool it down charm school. You might actually catch the attention of someone if you keep that up." Hill teased.

"I panicked!" Clint protested.

"What would Laura say if she saw you now?" Coulson chided.

"Who?" May asked.

"Don't we have a mission?" Clint interrupted before anyone could continue. He looked around. "Oh. Well hmm. That's not good."

"What?" Coulson sounded worried.

"The doc is gone."

"WHAT!?" Clint's ears rang.

"The girl, she must have been watching us on the roof. It must be her." Clint deducted.

"Well go after them!" Clint ran off, hoping he wasn't too late.

* * *

Natalia shoved the doc into the closet. "What's all this?" He demanded.

She glanced cooly at him, then leveled her pistole. He knocked it out of her hand, and they began to fight.

* * *

Clint barreled down the hallway and heard scruffling in a closet. He tried to open the door, but it was locked. Who put locks on broom closets anyway.

* * *

Natalia regained the gun and aimed at the doctor's head.

* * *

Clint opened the door.

* * *

A shot rang out.

* * *

**Mwahahahaha! *Runs and hides***


	9. Chapter 9

**Hi! I decided to be nice and update quickly!**

Chapter 9: Fire in the Hole

Clint stared in horror at the dead body of the man he was supposed to be protecting. His head jerked up and he barely rolled out of the way before the woman shot him, but the bullet still sliced painfully between two of his ribs. He reached for his bow when she attacked him with a knife. He growled and grabbed his gun and they fought viciously. She made a break on it and he managed to squeeze shot off at her and she slid into a hallway to escape. He grabbed his bow and ran out of the closet and looked around. It was deserted

"Barton. What's your status?" Coulson asked.

"The asset is dead," Clint reported. "The opposing party got away. I'm in pursuit now." "Roger that." Coulson sounded disappointed, and Clint felt bad. He had made a promise and had failed to keep it.

* * *

Natalia was impressed. He could put up a fight. She sprinted around a corner. He would be expecting her to try to escape, but she had a different plan. She was about to duck into a closet when she spotted another further down the hall. The one she was in front of now was closer to the recovery room. It was perfect for starting a distraction, but maybe the one further away from the room would be better. After all, if they're trying to escape they can get more children out, more of a crowd to distract pursuers. But this one would be better tactically. Give them less time to escape. But so what if the evacuated? She would still get out, and it could provide a distraction. She debated more, then sprinted for the closet further away. "Why am I doing this?" she muttered to herself. "This is ridiculous! Why did I second guess myself? How is this benefiting me in the long run? So what if they do or do not escape. I don't care." But she began her work in the far closet.

* * *

Clint searched for the girl near the recovery room. He spotted an open window and paused. What would he do in this situation? Personally, he would leave a false trail, then escape out a more obvious route. But the natural thing would be to create a distraction. He cursed. "What is it?" Coulson asked.

"She's creating a distraction, but I can't figure out what it is." Clint spat.

"Well think of the supplies. What could she work with?" Coulson replied

Clint was about to reply when his nose alerted him to the smell of smoke. "Well." He stated as he began running. "I might have a vague idea."

* * *

Natalia looked on approvingly as the fire roared to life. She slipped out of the closet and took off to the window she had left open for herself. She hit the ground and held back a yelp. The boy had gotten her leg good. It throbbed as she ran off into the dark. She felt her neck prickle and ducked out of the way as an arrow thudded into the ground in front of her. She dodged a few more. Then they stopped. It had grown dark and she looked back at the hospital. The fire glowed in the windows and sirens screeched. A child's scream pierced the night, and she shuddered. As she ran, she felt something. Anyone who didn't know better might have said it was a tear.

* * *

Clint whirled around as a scream echoed out of the recovery room. He had gotten a few shots off at the girl, but she had been too fast and had dodged them all. He entered the room to see nurses ushering kids out of the room, some in wheelchairs others stumbling and helping. He looked around. A young girl, maybe ten, was trapped by flames and smoke. He leaped across the line of fire, barely making it, and scooped her up. She collapsed in his arms. He coughed and looked down at her. It was the same girl he had threatened to shoot when shield had first gotten to him. He glanced up and realized that he had no idea where to go. He couldn't get the girl back over the fire, especially without jostling her apparently broken arm, and running into the bigger flames was just plain stupid. "Coulson?" He coughed. "Help."

"Where are you?"

"Outside the recovery room." He crouched down and laid the girl on the floor to get her out of the worst of the smoke. She stared at him completely trusting, then broke into a coughing fit.

"Go left." Coulson sounded tense.

"Your's or mine?"Clint joked.

"Not now Barton."

Coulson guided Clint to an exit, and he put the girl down, both of them coughing as if to raise the dead. Coulson and May were by Clint's side. "You okay Barton?"

He grunted in response and tried to stand.

"Woah, easy there Hawkeye." May cautioned as he swayed. She looked him up and down. "Wow, you look terrible."

"Thanks." He mumbled.

"Your hurt," Coulson noted tersely.

"Oh really? I hadn't noticed."

"Yeah, I might just believe that. Come on." Coulson and May supported the young man and guided him back to the quinjet. As they left, a young voice whispered in the night, but Clint could still hear it, even over the commotion.

"Thank you."


	10. Chapter 10

**It's the time we've all been waiting for! Natasha finally gets rescued. Well hopefully. Most likely. Another shout out to everyone who has reviewed my story, m klindt, TimeBlaze, and Guest. And a special thanks to Grammarospey for your constant support! I hope you enjoy my take on Budapest! **

Chapter 10: Budapest Part 1: Resistance

"We've got her." Clint jerked up from the phone as Coulson opened his door.

"Okay." Clint acknowledged. "Sorry honey, I've got to go. Let me know what you have planned!"

Coulson smiled as the nineteen-year-old stood up. "You excited for the wedding?"

"Yeah." Clint was beaming. He had been engaged to Laura for almost six months, and only had three months left to go. Clint eyed Coulson's suit. "Is that the best man's outfit or just one of your normal suits?"

Coulson grinned. "An interesting question."

"So your not going to tell me?" Coulson didn't answer and they entered the briefing room.

"Morning." Hill greeted. "You ready to head out to Russia?"

Clint shook his head. "No."

"Good!" Coulson handed him a file. "The quinjet will take you there. You have twenty-four hours to complete the mission and meet me at the extraction point."

"You're not joining me on this one?" Clint asked. Coulson shook his head. He had lost his partner, Agent May, to accounting. They had gone on a mission, and when they came back, she had been proclaimed a hero, nicknamed the Calvery, and had completely changed. They both had. Coulson recovered quickly enough but was still reluctant to talk about what happened. May never talked unless she absolutely had to. Coulson had played the role more of a handler for Clint and less of a field agent.

Clint flopped down in a chair and began reading the file.

Name: Natalia NA aka Black Widow

Age: NA

Height: ~5.8

Weight: NA

Hair: red

Eyes: NA

Gender: Female

Place of Birth: Russia

Race: Russian

Language: Russian & English

Mission: Terminate

Clint stopped reading. "Great let's go."

Coulson eyed him suspiciously. "You read the whole thing that fast?"

Clint grinned. "An interesting question." The three laughed.

* * *

Clint hated Russia. It felt like he was about to walk into a trap every time he went by an alley. It was growing dark, and he still had no lead. He climbed onto a roof. The height helped him think. Then he looked down, and low and behold! He leaped down the ladder and raced across the street. He halted in front of his target and pulled out some money. "Five Blintzes please." He requested in Russian. The vendor grunted, placed them in a paper bag, and accepted the money. Hawkeye grinned and returned to his perch on the roof. May had dared him to try one once, and now he was addicted. The only thing he loved more was doughnuts, sunflower seeds, and gummy worms. Also May's fault. He wolfed them down, and then took out his coffee cup. It was the same one Officer Grammar had given to him and he had kept it clean. He took a long sip. Then froze.

The target had been given false information to come to this building, and apparently, it had paid off. The figure slunk through the shadows. He was certain it was her. Pretty certain. Mostly certain. He hoped it was her. He dropped silently to the ground below him and followed her about five feet before she whirled around and fired a silenced shot at his face. He dropped to the ground and sent an arrow flying her way. She dodged in turn and he charged in pursuit. "Coulson. I've found her but she isn't cooperating."

"Get to a high point. You got this Hawkeye."

Clint climbed a wall and cursed. She was racing towards a T. He had no idea which way she would turn. He guessed left and fired.

* * *

Natalia cursed silently as the man dashed after her. She sprinted down and towards a T. She turned, and cursed, this time out loud as an arrow embedded itself in her thigh. She stumbled and looked down. She broke off all but the tip, then kept going. She heard him mutter a few colorful words. Apparently, he had been aiming to kill. She led him on a merry chase before turning suddenly and firing a shot of her own. He grunted as the bullet hit his shoulder and she ducked behind a trash can. They exchanged shots for a while. Then Natalia ran out of bullets. She fumbled for her other gun, and froze when the man stood over her, bow pointed at her face. He drew back the arrow. Natalia stared up at him, and relaxed. Finally, she could be free.

* * *

Clint stared down at her. She was only a girl. She was so young. "Barton, take the shot." Clint stared down at her and she seemed to relax. She invited death. "Baton." Clint turned off the comm. And lowered the bow. A mistake. She kicked his legs out and he sprawled on the ground. She took off. She might invite death, but when given a chance at life, she took it. He switched his arrow tip to a tranquilizer, and the chase began again. He got a shot off at her. She got one back. He waited for her to go down. Nothing happened. He shot again missed fired a few more, finally hit her. She returned fire. None of the bullets, except the one in his shoulder, really injured him too badly. Two doses of tranq were enough to bring down a cow. She was still running, although certainly slower. He fired a third shot. Then a fourth. Finally, she collapsed in an alleyway. He stumbled up to her, blood loss making him weak. "That was enough to bring down a bull elephant!" He panted.

She snarled from where she was propped up against a wall. "You'll find I'm tougher than that."

He leaned forward to inject her with a fifth does, when she wrenched it out of his grip and stabbed it into his gut. He doubled over, and with all their energy drain, both collapsed in the alleyway.


	11. Chapter 11

**Part two is out! Yay! Let's hope that things go smoothly for our two favorite assassins! Well, they never do, but maybe this time will be the exception. Thank you Grammarospey! I hope you all enjoy part two! Also, the conversations they have in different languages, that was all Google translate, so if I said something wrong, sorry! Blame Google. Jk, kind of.**

Chapter 11: Budapest Part 2: Closure

Clint groaned. His entire body hurt. A lot. He cracked an eye open and jerked up, knife in hand.

He slowly got his bearings and looked at the girl. She glared at him in a daze, and her movements were slow. That should make his life easier. He struggled to his feet and began trying to talk to Coulson. "Coulson? I need back up. I got the girl but… Coulson?" No response. "Coulson?" Clint was starting to feel nervous. He always answered even when he was ticked off.

"You turned off the comm придурок." The girl was smirking at him while leaning against a wall.

"I'm not sure what you called me, but Merci, je serais perdu sans un psychopathe pour m'aider. (Thank you, I don't know what I would do without a psychopath to help me.)"

"Votre bienvenue crétin. (Your welcome moron.)" She replied with a cocked eyebrow.

"Vedo che parli francese, ma che ne dici dell'italiano?(So you can speak French, but what about Italian?)" Clint smirked. He'd like to see her get out of this on-

"Du, sono fluente in diciotto lingue.(Duh, I'm fluent in eighteen languages.)" She smirked as he stared at her. He began to turn on the comm.

"Are not!"

"Am too!"

"Are not!"

"Prove it!"

"You prove it!"

"I asked first!"

"I-"

"Barton." Clint froze as Coulson entered the conversation. "Clint, what are you doing?"

"I, um, well," he took a deep breath. "I um, I thought that she could be a helpful asset. Like, as an agent, or something."

"And you didn't think to follow orders?" Coulson was furious. His voice was cold.

"Umm. You're breaking up sir. Sorry, I can't-you-off-" he turned off the comm, and leaned against a wall. "I am so dead."

The girl laughed, humorlessly. "Welcome to the club, as you Americans say." They sat together, both trying to regain strength.

"What's your name?" Clint asked eventually.

"Didn't you get information on your mission?"

"Yeah, but I just read the basics. I don't like to know anything more personal about my targets."

The girl rolled her eyes. "Americans. So soft-hearted. My name is Natalia Romanova."

"That's quite a mouthful," Clint commented. Natalia sighed. "Can I call you Nat?"

"No," Natalia replied shortly.

"Great. So, Nat, I was thinking, if you want to defect to the US, you should change your name."

"I said don't call me that! And what gives you the idea that I even want to go with you?"

"Because you're miserable here." He replied bluntly. "You wanted to die. You were just too scared to run or do it yourself. Though I can tell you thought about it. Whoever has a hand on your lead, you're terrified of them. You want out but you can't do it yourself."

Natalia blinked. She hadn't expected him to be able to read her that well. Clint continued speaking. "I'm offering you a chance to not only escape to freedom but to do the right thing. To go straight, and to wipe the red out of your ledger. I-"

"No!" She snapped louder than she intended. "Don't. Don't give me hope." She whispered. "You don't understand. Have you ever had someone gut you and stuff you with whatever they want? Take you and break you until they get what they want? Use you until you're useless, then dump you like the miserable trash you are? No, how could you understand?" She chuckled dryly. "You better finish your mission now, Hawkeye." She spat. "That's the only way we'll both get what we want." Silence filled the alley. And Clint stared at her.

"I know." He said shortly. "When I was young, my parents were killed. The circus of crime took me and my brother in. I stole for them, did tricks for them, and what did I get in return? They got their claws into me. They got me hooked on their drugs and rum, kept me dependent on them. Then one day, I made one of the higher-ups angry. So they sent me on a suicide mission." He scoffed. "They just sent me out to steal from the government. I failed, of course. And I was on the run for three years. Then shield found me. Changed my life."

Natalia was silent. "Well," She said eventually. "I guess we both have a pretty miserable past."

Clint chuckled dryly. "Yeah."

They stayed there for a while until Clint began walking towards Natalia. She didn't move. "Come on." He said holding out a hand. "Let's go."

"Where? Where can we go?" Natalia asked. "Cause I don't think your boss really wants to meet me right now."

"Don't worry," Clint said confidently. "You'll warm up to him. He won't kill us, probably. Most likely."

Natalia eyed him suspiciously. "How sure are you?"

Clint chuckled nervously. "Just...cross your fingers."

"You better finish your mission now Hawkeye. It's the only way we'll both get what we want."

Coulson rubbed his hands over his face. Why me? He wondered. He sighed. Of all the assassins Clint had to find one that he and Coulson now had to help. Fury was going to kill him. He groaned again. The two master assassins were arguing like school children.

"I already told you I'm not defecting to the US!" Natalia cried.

"Well, you were on board with it five seconds ago!" Clint replied exasperated.

"No, I wasn't! I just thought you would get me out of this mess! I didn't think you would actually make me join shield!"

"What else would I do?"

"Look, I owe you for not killing me, so I'll help get you to your precious shield, in return for letting me go."

"No! We're in this together."

"Since when?"

"Sir!" The technician called. "There are hostiles approaching them! They're surrounded!"

Coulson ran over to the computer. Sure enough. They two dots were surrounded by a bunch of other dots. "Clint," he sighed. "At this rate, I'm going to go bald faster than The Director."

The two assassins were supporting each other down the alleyway, both not completely trusting the other. They both froze and cursed in unison. "I bet you five buck were surrounded," Clint muttered.

"I bet you five more that they're here for both of us," Nat replied. Shots began ringing out in the dawn and the two ran.


	12. Chapter 12

**Again, all the Russian is from Google translate so I apologize for any errors. Also, I wanted the Budapest part of the Avengers movie to actually be comparable to this so here is my best shot! I hope y'all enjoy! Also please comment if I should make Nat's first contact with shield be part of Budapest or its own chapter. And I just figured out how to reply to comments (Yeah I'm techy like that) so I'll be doing that more often. Enjoy!**

Chapter 12: Budapest part 3: Rescued

The two master assassins sprinted and hid behind a yellow taxi car. "It's AIM," Nat determined.

"For guys named aim, they're a pretty terrible shot." Clint scoffed, then ducked as a bullet crashed overhead. "They're like Stormtroopers."

"What?" Nat asked as she fired shots back.

"You've never heard of Star Wars?" Clint was astonished. Granted, he hadn't watched it yet either, but he had known about it.

"I've heard about it, that's it."

"You poor, poor child." Clint shook his head, then yelped as she kicked him in the shin.

One of the hostiles threw a grenade. "Run for it?" Clint asked.

"Duh!" Nat shouted and raced away. The grenade was about to explode when a bus pulled into the alleyway. The grenade went off and the bus swerved, crashing into the alley wall. Clint hesitated, then turned and sprinted towards it. "What are you doing?" Nat called.

"These people need help!" Clint answered. He looked over and, although she was good at hiding her feelings, he could detect some confusion. She didn't let it deter her.

"Clint we need to get out of here!"

"Not without helping them!" He began to help unload people from the bus.

"Сумасшедший идиот!" Nat muttered. "I'll cover you." She hid behind another car and kept firing shots at the oncoming hostiles. Clint helped pry open the door of the bus, then returned to Nat. He let loose a few arrows. Hostiles were coming in droves and they were barely keeping them at bay.

"You want to leave or what?" Clint asked. Nat glared at him then turned to run. "That a yes then?" No response as she took off. "Ok then, nice talking with you." He muttered, then raced after her. He followed her as she weaved through alleys and finally into an abandoned building about a mile away. They collapsed inside and began tending to their wounds. Clint looked over at Nat. "You're hit." He remarked worriedly, "Did that happen just now?"

She rolled her eyes. "For someone called Hawkeye, you're not very observant."

"I'm very observant! I just noticed your hit, didn't I? Nat sighed. "Why did you assist the people on the bus? Why did you," she paused for a second, trying to think of the word. "Help them?" Clint noticed she seemed hesitant to say the word like it was wrong or something.

"Cause I'm shield. That's just how we roll." He began trying to activate comms. But silently observed her. She seemed even more confused by this and he sighed inwardly. The KGB, he decided, needed to have their butts handed to them. Seriously, who didn't understand helping? Well, he didn't really get it at first, but anyone could learn, right? The comm began making white noise, then voices broke through. "Coulson?"

"Clint? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Mostly. Kinda."

"What are your coordinates?" Clint told him and Coulson paused. "Okay, we're on our way. And Clint?"

"Hmmm?"

"You get to explain this to the Director."

Clint slumped, and Nat looked up. "I guess I better get going."

"What? No! Come on you can't bail now?" Clint protested.

"Why not?" Nat asked. "Or are you going to force me to do what you want?"

"I don't think I could force you to do anything, but come on!" Clint was getting mad.

"Try and stop me." Nat stood up and began to walk out the door.

"Nat, come on. Don't be a coward." She froze. "Is this how you treat your friends? Just leave them and go do whatever you want? Do you abandon them?"

"Shut. Up." Her voice was cold. "Shut. Up. SHUT UP!" She whirled at him "You don't know me. You don't know anything about me!" She began fuming so hard he could barley keep up with her ranting. "Ты ничего не знаешь обо мне, глупый сын козы без матери! Вы думаете, что знаете меня? Будь осторожен, потому что я убил всех своих друзей. У меня был только один, и я убил ее! Я сделал. Это был я. Так что заткнись, пока я не сделал тебе больно-"

A silenced woosh stopped her rampage and she glared at Clint before crumbling to the ground. Clint looked down then up as Coulson walked over and knelt in front of him. "Kid hey kid." He blinked, and Coulson shook his head. "Is it possible for you to go on a mission without getting hurt?" Clint smirked weakly. Now that Coulson was here, he relaxed, allowing the pain to flood in and groaned. The scratches and bullet wounds began to throb painfully and weakness seemed to cling to every inch of his body. Coulson gave him a quick look over and supported him as Clint struggled to his feet and limped out. He noticed Nat being carried out by two agents in full tactical.

"Coulson." He murmured.

"Yeah, kid?"

"Make sure she's okay, she needs help."

"I heard you, and I agree, maybe we can save her."

"Yeah." He stumbled. "I think she'll be a real asset. And she speaks eighteen languages."

"I heard. Her little Russian rant? For a seventeen-year-old, she sure knows how to get her point across with no words to spare."

"Oh yeah? What did she call me?"

"Some things that are not for tender ears." The two chuckled before Coulson half carried Clint up the ramp and onto a bed. Nat was placed into another bed and rolled into a cell, after being searched for weapons by the female of the two agents.

"Coulson?" Clint asked, and the man looked down at him. "She hasn't seen Star Wars."

The assassins managed slept through the flight, and one woke in the infirmary, while the other woke in a much less ideal situation. "какого черта?"


	13. Chapter 13

**Hi everybody! I am so sorry I haven't updated recently. I had a very trying week last week and spent this one recovering. I hope you all enjoy this chapter. I had a bit of a writer's block so I apologize if it seems a little bumpy. Let's see how Nat is fairing in her new life! I wanted to thank Grammarospey again and enjoy!**

Chapter 13: Building Trust

Natalia woke up with a humungous headache, and it took all her willpower not to fall back asleep. She was laying on something soft, a bed, she realized. She kept her eyes closed, listening, and heard voices. It was Coulson, the one that Clint was talking to, and someone else.

"The council doesn't see it that way."

"Sir, she's just a kid."

"I know and I'll do everything in my power to stop them from giving the order, but if I can't I'll need you to keep them safe."

"Yes, sir."

"Is she awake yet? I want to ask her some questions." Footsteps. Natalia let her curiosity win her over, and opened her eyes. She glared at the man who approached her.

"Yes, sir, she is," Coulson answered. The other man walked around.

"Thank you, Coulson." Coulson nodded, and Natalia watched him leave. She noticed, for the first time. She was in some sort of cell, complete with cement floors, walls, and ceiling, except between her and the door, was a fence, like in a classic dungeon. She sat up in her bed and glared at the man, who sat down in a chair, with a water bottle. He handed it to her and she didn't take it. He put it down on the floor next to him. "Natalia? My name is Nick Fury. Welcome to Shield." She continued to glare at him. "I want to offer you a deal. If you give us intel on the KGB, then we can keep you safe."

"And why would I help you?" Natalia asked. "After all we haven't really gotten off to a great start. First, you try to kill me then you kidnap me and to top it all off you ask me to betray my country."

"Your country already betrayed you." Fury stated. Natalia felt more than a hint of anger, mostly because she knew it was true than because Fury mentioned it. She glowered at the man, and he got up and left. "Just, think about it." Natalia scoffed silently, he really thought she would just join the American version of the KGB without a second thought? Out of the frying pan and into the fire? It was ridiculous unless they really were better. She considered it, then slowly picked up the water bottle, and took a small sip, before placing back down.

* * *

Clint groaned. What could he even say? He knew that he could be fired or worse, put on trial, but his stupid brain just wouldn't work. "Agent Barton?" Maria Hill looked out of stepped out of the office. "The Director will see you now." Clint took a deep breath and stood up. Maria avoided his eyes and he felt his stomach drop even further. He stepped into the office and Fury looked up.

"Agent Barton."

"Yes, sir."  
"You are, in fact, aware that you disobeyed a direct order from your superiors?"

"Yes, sir."

"And in doing so, allowed a Russian spy onto our base, that deals with secret intel?"

"Yes, sir."

"You compromised this entire organization, and endangered the lives of millions of people."

"Yes, sir."

" Listen, Barton, I want an explanation, and if you don't have a good one, you better start packing. And enough with the 'yes, sir"

"Ye-Okay, sir." Fury glared at him and Clint had to force himself not to smirk, but then he grew somber. "She seemed like a good asset, and that's what shield does right? We help talented people to help others. We take their skills and put them towards something good. So this girl, she is the definition of a super spy, if we can help her, maybe she'll help us, and shield would really benefit from that."

"And?"

"Sir?"

"Come on Barton. We both know there was another reason."

"She wanted to die, sir. She was trapped and had given up and, I couldn't just leave her. I needed to help her because-"

"Because she was you." Fury finished for him. Clint nodded. "Alright, Barton. I'll trust you but, if she ends up killing or betraying us all, I'm holding you personally responsible."

"Yes, sir thank you, sir."

"You've got talents kid, now let's see if you can help our new friend talk to us. She's feeling a bit, confrontational.

* * *

Natalia punched the first guy in the stomach before elbowing the other in the face. She flipped onto ugly number 1's shoulders and dragged him down, before planting a foot into number 2's gut.

"Nat! Hey Nat, calm down!" She whipped around to see Clint approaching her, hands out in a placating gesture. She glared at him as he walked over. Clint looked down and whistled. "It only took you five seconds to take out those two? In full tactical? I knew you were good but man!"

"Three men actually." Natalia corrected. Clint waved his hand. "Sitwell doesn't count. You took him out in like, point five seconds." Natalia shrugged and continued glaring at him. "So I assume the director gave you a speech and stuff. So are you in?"

Natalia blinked, then laughed. "This is coming from the ma who tried to kill me, then kidnapped me?"

"Right, sorry about that." Clint rubbed the back of his neck. But hey, if any of your people were watching, then they won't believe that you betrayed them and defected to us."

"For the last time-"

"So really you should be thanking me for saving you." Natalia's jaw dropped. "Is that what I should be doing? Oh, thank you great Hawkeye, if you hadn't kidnapped me, I would have been perfectly fine oh thank you! My hero!" She rolled her eyes. "Ты наглый свинья."

* * *

Fury and Coulson observed the two assassins and smiled. "They'll make a good team." Fury nodded satisfied.

Coulson smiled. "Who is going to be her S.O.?"

"I think a bit of responsibility for Barton could be just what he needs."

"You know, they're going to be at each other's throats for the first week or so." Fury just grinned.

* * *

"Ow! Nat!" The spy smirked at him.

"Oops."

"Yeah right like that was an accident."

"Well, maybe you should have moved faster."

"Well maybe-"

"Hey!" A new voice, Garret, broke into their argument. "The lady is right Hawklet." He completely ignored Clint and focused on Nat. "If you need help learning to spare, I could really help you. I've got a few moves I know-"

"Bla blah blah same old cheesy pickup line for every girl, sir."

The man turned around slowly. "I wasn't talking to you little chick. Shouldn't Coulson be cleaning your feathers or something."

"No, he's got important stuff to do, being level 6 and all. What about you sir, don't you have important stuff to do too?  
The man had his full attention on Clint now and was taking a step forward when Nat cleared her throat.

"Actually, I would like to spar with you, sir."

Garret turned around and smiled.

"Well then, what are we waiting for?" The two stepped towards the ring and Clint bit back a grin. Although Garret was a nice guy, and everybody loved him he and Clint rubbed each other the wrong way, which Clint knew was difficult for Coulson, Garret being his best friend and all. But even Coulson had to admit when Garret was around women, he became very single-minded, and Clint couldn't wait to see his ego take a few hits.

Garret held the rope up for Nat but she just smiled and went around the other way. "First I want to see your form. Fight me, then I know where to start giving you pointers." Clint began to pull out his phone but Nat sent a potent glare his direction. He shrugged and put it away. A large crowd had gathered and most seemed to know what was coming. Garret has just returned from a mission and apparently hadn't heard of Nat's reputation of beating the snot out all but a few who she sparred with.

"Ready? G-" Nat was already moving and delivered a few pinched to his face and a kick to his gut. Garret seemed startled then began to get his wits back. They didn't help him. He threw a punch and she grabbed it twisted and threw him to the ground where she pinned him for the required ten seconds. Cheers ensued from the watching crowd as Garret struggled to his feet. "Nicely done ma'am. You've earned my respect." Nat just looked at him, then turned and walked out. Clint followed her.

They walked in silence. He knew that Nat hated when people turned fighting into a sport. He walked with her to the cafe where they grabbed some cheeseburgers and were enjoying the silence when Coulson came over. "Little early for lunch isn't it?"

"It's ten forty-five, fifteen minutes till eleven which is the acceptable time for lunch." Coulson smiled.

"Well hurry up." He dropped a file on the table.

"Why? What's the rush?" Clint answered through a mouth full of burger. Coulson was about to answer when Laura hurried up. "Hi, Phil!" She gave him a hug. "You've got the suit and everything right?"

"Yes, ma'am. Have you chosen your maid-of-honor?"

"No, Chella is going to be out of town and Heather due that day. What about Audrey?"

"Who's Audrey?" Clint asked.

"His girlfriend Clint." Nat and Laura said in unison.

"Coulson has a girlfriend? You never told me?" Clint exclaimed.

"Really? Hmmm. That's interesting. " Coulson replied dryly. "Anyway we all have to go, duty calls."

"But my burger!" Clint exclaimed.

"You can finish it on the way, just don't get any on my car."

"Okay." Clint sighed. "Bye Laura." Nat snagged shotgun and Clint settled into the back seat of the red convertible. "So Coulson, what's so important that you would risk your car getting burger grease on it."

"You two have your first mission. And if I find a speck of burger back there Barton, I'm going to make sure it's your last."


	14. Chapter 14

**Hi guys! I was told that this chapter could use some improvement, so here it is! Hope you enjoy this one more, and sorry for the last chapter! I want to thank Grammarospey for bringing this to my attention. Please give me more feedback like this guys, it really helps! Bon Appétit!**

Chapter 14: Mission Accomplished?

"Barton?" a pause"Barton?" someone was shaking him."Barton, get up." Clint groaned.

"Medurts" he mumbled

"What?"

"Mhedhus."

"Can you please speak a little less clearly? I'm starting to understand you." Nat's biting sarcasm snatched him out of his daze.

Clint spat out a mouthful of snow."My head freakin hurts!" He tried to yell, but it came out as more of a rasp.

"Well, maybe you shouldn't go banging your head against a tree?" she suggested. He muttered a few colorful words under his breath but they turned into a groan as he sat up.

"What happened?" he asked while trying to get his bearings.

"Well, we were on a mission to steal intel from Doctor Doom when you jinxed us and a patrol came early. We were running away when you got hit by a blast from one of his cannons that threw you into a tree and now I'm trying to get you back on your feet before his men and their dogs tear us to shreds."

"Oh." Clint considered that for a moment. "So we're doing okay then."

"Just about!" Nat agreed cheerfully, which meant not glaring at him and cocking an eyebrow. This was their seventh mission in the first three months of working as a team. Their first mission had gone beautifully, in and out in ten minutes flat with no injuries, hadn't even been spotted, and it had just gone downhill from there. Every mission they were either captured, though usually in that case that was the mission, injured, or stranded without communication or many resources. Sometimes it could take minutes, hours, days, and even a week once before they were rescued. Fun times! They also had a most remarkable way of recovering and being up and about as soon as humanly possible. They were, in short, the best team shield had. Strike Team Alpha. Nat and Clint with Coulson as their handler/medic/evac team and occasionally partner. This mission was different. Coulson was gone somewhere else, they hadn't been injured badly, and the jet was only a hundred yards off. They both knew that sooner or later, everything was going to fall to ruins.

"Let's go." Clint got to his feet and the two took off running. They were making good pace, so far no one was currently shooting close enough to hit them. Eighty yards. Clint was running out of breath. He was still dizzy from his encounter with the tree. "You good?" Nat asked.

Clint grunted in response.

* * *

Sixty yards. Nat noticed that Clint was stumbling. She was surprised that he hadn't thrown his guts up yet. She had had concussions before and they were nasty on both the brain and the stomach. Clint stumbled again and almost fell. He got his feet back though and Nat realized a second later that maybe she should have helped him. She silently cursed the training the Red Room had instilled in her. Clint had shown her that teamwork made you stronger, not weaker. Next time. She would help him.

* * *

Forty yards. Clint had noticed the play of emotions in his partner's eyes. First, it was worry, then realization, then guilt which quickly changed to anger, then finally, resolve. He hoped that he got a mission to kick the butts of the KGB. Particularly the Matron and that Ipati person. He had gleaned from their short conversations and her almost silent cries in her nightmares, that they were the cause of most of her fear and behavior. He silently vowed to help her and give them an a-

A shot rang out and Nat shoved Clint before falling as a bullet slammed into her hip. "Nat!" Clint cried as his partner fell into the snow.

"I'm fine! Go!" she replied through gritted teeth. In a split second, thoughts and decisions spun through his head. He could try and get her back to the jet, but it looked like she couldn't walk, and the dogs were close behind. They could lose the intel, and fail their mission. On the other hand, if he could have gotten her back safely and he left her to die, then he couldn't live with himself. Also, Team Alpha would be destroyed, the best team shield had.

"Clint!" Nat snapped. "They didn't shoot to kill. Get your sorry butt on that jet and I'll find a way out later. Now go!" Barton stepped back and took off towards the quin jet. He knew he had precious little time. He ran onto the jet, closed the ramp, and took off, cloaking the aircraft, and leaving his partner behind.

* * *

Nat watched Clint leave before turning back to her opponents. She struggled to a kneeling position, withdrew her two handguns, and began firing, dropping men and dogs like flies before one dog tackled her to the ground. The German shepherd wolf mix bit into her shoulder eliciting a grunt of pain before a sharp voice commanded it to stop. Two men helped her up and Nat thanked them by elbowing one in the nose, breaking it, and donkey kicking the other in the crotch. Cries of pain were the last thing she heard before a taser was thrust into her side, causing a wave of agony before she lost consciousness. As she crumpled to the ground she thought of Clint and hoped he had the senses to get the intel to safety. She seriously doubted it.

* * *

Clint slammed a fist into the arm of his chair. He felt like a coward, fleeing and leaving Nat to face danger alone. He took a deep breath. Nat wasn't a little girl. She could take care of herself. A dark voice in the back of his head started flapping its stupid mouth. She can't get out of there. You saw the compound. Even the dog kennel is nearly impossible to break into. Clint rubbed his hands over his face. A plan or more the beginnings of one formed in his head. If he could hide the intel, he could get Nat, then get to safety. Plus, he had heard stories of what Doom did to his prisoners. He tortured them until there was nothing left, then gave them to his dogs. He didn't know if it was true, but he certainly didn't want to test the limits of Doom's patience. He flew the quin jet into some woods and placed the thumb drive in two plastic baggies before hiding it and, keeping the quinjet cloaked, left to conduct a rescue mission. He trekked for about twenty minutes before he reached the base and climbed onto the roof. He waited, knowing that the guards he was puppy guarding would reveal some information soon. So he settled down to wait, ready to strike, watching his quarry like a hawk.

* * *

Nat woke to a bucket of water being thrown on her. The first thing she noticed, was the fact that she was hanging from the ceiling by her wrists with her ankles chained to the ground. That was very uncomfortable. She then noticed a throbbing in her hip where the bullet had hit her. Judging by the pain she had shattered her pelvis. Again. And there was an aching in her side and in her head. And her eyes, but that was on account of the door opening letting light spill into the room, which gave her a view of her cell. She was in a building that resembled, in the most generous description, a dog kennel. The connection was probably due to a large number of dogs barking and yelping in their cages. She glared at the men who entered the room. Four of them. Two guards, one man who Nat instantly knew would be the main interrogator, the one who would ask questions while the others hit her around. Then there was Doctor Von Doom. She still thought that name was overkill. The doctor clunked up to her. The mastermind had once had a handsome face, but a nasty accident had left his face scarred and so, logically, he built a suit of metal armor for himself, complete with a flowing green cape and metal spikes lining his arms, legs, and hands. He also made his mission world domination.

"So." His voice resonated throughout the room, and even the dogs quieted. "Natalia Romanova, the famous Black Widow. You thought you could steal intel from me and succeed?"

"I already did," Nat replied.

"Ha!" Doom scoffed. "Yet here you are hanging like an animal while my men are on their way to retrieved the intel."

"Victor-"

"YOU DO NOT SPEAK MY NAME!" Doom thundered and backhanded Nat across the face, his spikes leaving shallow, but painful marks across her cheek. The man turned and left the room ordering over his shoulder. "Make her pay for her insolence and discover where her companion fled. I want to question him too." The guards turned, grinning. The first kneed her in the ribs while the second pulled out his taser and began to laugh. Nat kicked him as hard as she could, breaking his wrist. Apparently, he had assumed that chaining he ankles to the floor would prevent her from being able to fight back. Nat had limited movement, that was true, but that was enough to take out these goons. After taking out the three men in the room, five more flooded in. Two of them hit her with tasers at the same time, causing her temporary paralysis, during this time, they were free to whale on her all they wanted.

* * *

Barton gritted his teeth as the cowards found out a good way to hit his partner. His small jubilee at seeing her still fight was crushed as he saw that the tactic was wearing her down. After a half hour, they didn't have to use the tasers anymore. The guards at the building he had previously been watching had laughed about the "Slut" they had captured and how she "Belonged with the dogs." They were getting into some other details when Clint dropped from his perch and knocked the men out, propping them to look like they had fallen asleep. He had made his way over to the dog kennels and climbed into the air vents, its only weakness, watching and waiting for his chance to rescue his partner. After four hours, the men finally gave up. "Let the next shift deal with her." One grunted. "I'm getting a drink, who wants to come?" It took all of Clint willpower not to shot arrows into some very painful places in the two male guards. They left and Clint waited for thirty stressful seconds before emerging from the air duct. He dropped silently to the floor picked the cuffs on Nat's wrists and ankles. The dogs growled and barked, but a guard outside shouted for them to shut up.

"Nat?" He lowered her to the ground and knelt by her side and touched her arm gently. She jerked and almost stabbed him with a pocket knife she had taken off of one of the guards. "Woah woah woah! Calm down it's Clint, it's Clint." She stared at him then sighed.

"What took you so long," Nat grumbled.

"I stopped for drive-through." He replied as he looked her over quickly for injuries that needed immediate attention. Clint put her arm across his shoulder and helped Nat stand up. She inhaled sharply and groaned. "Come on, Nat, I need you to stay with me for just a little while longer." Clint walked his partner over to the air vent. "You can pass out once we get to the jet okay? But if we stay here we're both going to be in trouble. Okay?"

She glared at him weakly. "Shut up and start moving."

Clint grinned. "Glad to see you're alright." Nat rolled her eyes and Clint helped hoist her into the vent before climbing in himself. After about ten minutes of agonizingly slow movement, the two spies emerged into the cold night air. Almost immediately sirens started wailing and sleepy, annoyed, and drunk cries grumbled back. Clint helped his partner through the woods. Nat stumbled a began to fall. Clint caught her and scooped her up and carried her the rest of the way to the jet. He put her in the co-piolet seat before flying the quinjet out of the forest. He turned and flew over the base and equipped an explosive arrow, aiming carefully, and shot it at some ill-placed propane tanks. The following explosion was immensely satisfying. He turned to leave when a figure caught his eye. It was Doom. He had a bazooka. "Oh s-!" the following explosion cut him off. The smoke cleared. Clint was confused. How was he not blown to smithereens? Doom looked equally confused, then he looked pissed. Clint then turned to look over his shoulder. Nat had somehow managed to stand up and fired at the missile. She looked back, smirked and then collapsed back in the seat.

He returned to the controls and set course for the nearest safe house before retrieving the thumb drive and grabbing a first aid kit, then returning to his partner. Nat eyed the wet baggies the intel was hidden in. "Why is it dripping?" Clint just grinned. "You didn't" Nat stared at him. "You hid it in the toilet tank?" She rolled her eyes and smirked, but then she began to cough, closing her eyes and leaning her head back against the seat. Clint frowned and began unzipping the first aid kit. He waited until she was done coughing before stitching up the dog bite on her shoulder, and the cuts on her cheek. Neither would scar, but he still made sure to be careful. "So how-?"

"The screen тупой. It shows incoming missiles. Plus I have an app on my phone that tracks missile near me." Clint processed that information in silenced then changed the subject.

"Hey, Nat?"

A grunt.

"Don't you think that you should make your name more...American?"

"Like what?"

"Like what would your name be if it was American? It's just that everybody knows your Russian name, so now that you started a new life, why not change your name?"

Silence met his question and he sighed. The quinjet was low on fuel, Nat needed a place to rest, and they needed to contact Coulson. A place somewhere out of the way. He was about to change course when Nat replied. "Natasha Romanoff." Clint grinned. "Great, so I can still call you Nat."

Nat smirked, then closed her eyes, letting her face settle into lines of pain. Clint felt a surge of protectiveness. He would keep her safe. "Rest up Nat," He murmured quietly. "We're still ways out. Just hold on. I'll take care of you." He felt an urge to brush a stray hair out of her face but decided he liked his hand nice and safe. He had discovered in one mission, that she wasn't above bitting. He smiled, then set course, for home.


	15. Chapter 15

**Hi guys! This is just a short sweet chapter. Hope you enjoy! **

Chapter 15: Home Sweet Home

Three hours later, Clint was cautiously waking Nat up. "Natasha? We're here." The assassin opened her eyes.

"Where?" She asked suspiciously. The only reply she got was vague. She rolled her eyes. At least she could do that without her body aching horribly. Even the painkillers hadn't made much of a difference. She tried to stand but would have fallen if Clint hadn't caught her. He scooped her up again, carrying her out of the jet. As much as she hated to admit it, it was nice to be carried, instead of having to limp around. They were on a farm with a barn and an adorable two story house. Clint carried her up to the porch but hesitated.

"Umm, Romanoff?"

"What?"

"Can you...um...stand?" He sounded awkward. "If you can't that totally fine, it's just, ummm...if you can." Nat glanced up at him. He was acting like he had to choose which of his children to save. A bolt of red-hot anger flashed through before she could suppress it. She had a shattered pelvis for heavens sakes! It wasn't like she had lost both of her legs! She stood up, Clint supporting her. "Yes," she replied icily. Did he think she was really that pitiful? She huffed silently before chiding herself. No emotion. They walked into a kitchen, it was a warm cheery atmosphere, even though most of the house was bare of furniture. The atmosphere was only dampened from the guilt, she could practically feel oozing off of Barton. He led her over to a chair, lowering her down before disappearing into what she assumed was the laundry room. The house was nice, a good safe house. She didn't think anyone could find it easily without coordinates. She glanced up as Clint returned. He silently started patching her back up. After about thirty minutes of silence, Clint stood up.

"There you go, all stitched up." Clint didn't look at her making Nat realize that they needed to talk.

"Clint, what is this place?"

He sighed. And entered the kitchen to start some food. "Well, you know how Laura and I are getting married in a couple of weeks?"

"Uh huh." Clint looked up expectantly. Nat had a feeling that she was missing something important. This is why she hated painkillers almost as much as pain. They messed with her head. What would a new house, built in a nice safe secluded spot have to do with him and Laura getting married? And why would Clint be so twitchy about carrying her in the door-oh. Nat felt like a complete idiot. Of course, Clint wouldn't want to carry his partner in like he would his bride, into his house that he had built for his bride before his bride got the chance to even see it.

"Clint, I should have thought before I reacted, there is no excuse for what I did," Nat responded. Clint looked up, startled. "You didn't know, and also I know that pain and painkillers kinda fry the brain's thinking ability." Clint looked at the assassin in his kitchen. He saw that look in her eyes, the one she had had when she accidentally broke a glass. Or the time when she had learned that you were not supposed to break bones when sparring, after breaking an instructor's wrist and ankle. Her expression stayed the same, but the eyes had a deep fear in them. Like she was expecting pain. He knew that feeling when his father had come home drunk and angry. When Barney was pissed and needed to blow off steam. But heck, the fact she had that fear after making a genuine mistake? He left the kitchen and sat down across from Nat.

"Look, you don't need to apologize. It was a mistake."

"I'm not apologizing." She replied instinctively. "Excuses are just empty words."

Clint buried his face in his hands. "They really screwed you up didn't they? Look, apologizing is a way of showing that you didn't mean to do what you did, and if you have a good excuse, like being on painkillers to mess your mind up, then that's okay. What's not okay, is empty excuses or lies. If something really is your fault, then own up to it, but if it isn't then let them know it was an accident." Nat considered this slowly, then nodded. He hoped she had absorbed what he said. She looked into his eyes like she had just come to grips with something.

"You're burning the bread." He whirled around cursing. He ran over to find the bread black. He groaned. It was the last of the loaf. He blamed on too many sandwiches while preparing the house. He looked up apologetically. "Sorry."

Nat smirked. "You better have a good excuse for that."

After dinner, Clint tried to contact Coulson. "Sir?"

"Clint? Nat? Are you guys okay?"

"Yeah, we're fine. Well, mostly. I don't think she'll bleed out."

Coulson sighed long and hard. So much for a break after his mission. "What are your coordinate?"

"Coulson. I'm at the safe house, but can you come alone? Also, I need to fly the quin jet out to where someone can pick it up. The fuel line was hit by the explosion."

"Explosion? What-actually, nevermind. You two are going to be the death of me you know that?"

"Yes, sir! See you soon, sir."

He turned back to where Natasha was still sitting in her chair. "Coulson's at least an hour out. Why don't you try and rest? I can keep watch." The fact that she didn't protest show exactly how tired she was. She lay down on the couch, wrapped in a blanket he had laid out for her. He looked down at her as her breathing slowed. He felt a hot bubble of hate. Who would do this to an innocent child? He knew she had to have been young when she was kidnapped. How could someone take such a naturally nice person and turn them into a killing machine? Clint was just glad he had gotten to her in time. It seemed to be a cycle with shield. Coulson rescued him, then he rescued Nat. He wondered if Nat would rescue anyone? Still, she had a long way to go before there was a chance of that happening. He had the feeling she would make a great SO.

* * *

**No, Romanoff isn't about to become a SO anytime soon. I have a special character lined up for that, but for now, she'll be fine. By the way, I hope you guys are okay with me throwing in a character of my own design. It's for a book I will be starting after this one and I would like you guys to get to know her. But she won't come in until later. Anyway, hope you all enjoyed this chapter! The next one is going to be more like this, less adventure. After all, there's does need to be some friendship in here somewhere! lol**


	16. Chapter 16

**Hello, everybody! This is another short sweet chapter of Nat integrating into shield and learning that maybe friends aren't all that bad. Thank you Grammarosprey for your constant support. And guys, I please feel free to ask any questions and I will answer them in the reviews. Thank you and enjoy!**

Chapter 16: Girls Day Out

Maria Hill was not qualified for this. Bobbi Morse was not at all prepared for this kind of stuff. Maria had been trained to help run a top secret government organization, and Bobbi had been trained as a specialist. None of that training included caring for a moody teenager. The two walked down Natasha's quarters. Fury had asked them to get her out while he was away. With Clint on his honeymoon and Fury didn't want Nat all on her own, lurking in her temporary housing. He had offered Nat a room in his apartment until she was old enough to legally get her own. Fury. however, did not want her to be all alone in his home so he made her move into shield HQ. Now Hill and Morse had to at least make sure she ate three meals and had some interaction with other human beings. "If things go south, I just want to remind you that this was your idea," Hill told Bobbi.

"She needs to get out in the world and this is the best way to do it! Plus I haven't been to a Wetzel's Pretzels in ages." Morse replied.

Hill rolled her eyes and knocked on Natasha's door.

"Yes?" an annoyed voice answered.

"Come on. We're going out." Hill replied.

"I'll pass thank you," Romanoff responded curtly.

"I'm not offering." Hill waited. After about three minutes, Bobbi was leading them both down to the garage. The got into the car, all the while trying to engage Natasha in conversation. She kept up a stony silence, only broken by short responses.

When they reached the mall, the two women immediately took her over to JC Penney. "Well? Pick out something you like." Bobbi smiled at Nat then turned, making a beeline for the exercise clothes. Hill went to look at some boots leaving Nat alone. Nat had no idea what to do. She had never been shopping before. But Bobbi had said to find something she liked. She looked around, finding a nice grey hoodie with a striped hood. She thought it looked cute. Hill came over.

"You like it?" Nat shrugged.

"It's nice. But a little expensive." Hill looked at her then a look of comprehension dawned on her face.

"We're paying for this trip Nat. Go ahead, get it."

Nat immediately look guarded. "I don't like debts."

Hill smiled. "No debt. My treat." Nat didn't seem to believe her but still took it. Maria tried to get her to buy something else but she refused. Eventually, Bobbi came over, with some more workout clothes and Maria bought some black leather boots. They paid and then went to grab some food. Soon the trio was eating pretzels and drinking frozen lemonade. Nat was stunned. She had never seen a pretzel so large! And the lemonade was like snow! Maria and Bobbi enjoyed her mostly concealed fascination.

After another hour Hill got a phone call, summoning her back to HQ. As they were leaving Nat suddenly froze. Hill and Bobbi turned to look at her curiously. Her gaze was fixed, on a tiny kitten mewling in a pet store window. It was black with a little white beard.

"Aww so cute!" Morse exclaimed. "We'll have to come back later and visit him." She grinned. "Maybe Fury will allow a pet in his apartment." She looked at Nat only to have her bruskly turn and begin walking away from the kitten. Hill and Morse look at each other confused.

They got in the car and waited a few minutes before asking. "What happened back there?" Nat's shrug was unconvincing. Bobbi's analysis skills automatically kicked in."Did you have a cat like that?" She knew she made a mistake when Nat's walls immediately closed off even further.

After a few more tense minutes, to the two's surprise, Nat answered. "Мерлин. Merlin." He used to visit me one winter, while he was still a kitten. I never understood how he avoided the guards and got through the snow all alone. I would give him scraps and he was growing well. Then, one day the Matron caught me with him. I was punished but the worst part was…" The two women look at her to continue. "They made me practice interrogation on him, then made me kill him." Hill was disgusted. What monsters would do that to a little girl? Bobbi was ready to march to Russia and teach them the pain that Natasha and the kitten must have felt. Neither of them could think of words that would comfort her. So they remained in silence. When they entered the building, Nat stopped, looked at them and gave one of her rare smiles. "Thank you for the trip and...thank you." Hill smiled back.

Bobbi grinned. "If that's what being a parent is like, then maybe I'll take Hunter up on his offer." Hill just laughed in response.

The next morning, Morse opened her door to a smirking Natasha. "Want to go a few rounds in the gym?" Bobbi groaned. "It's three in the morning! I thought teenagers were supposed to sleep until noon!"

"See you in five." Nat grinned and disappeared. Bobbi heard her phone ding.

Hill: Still want kids?

Bobbi: I hate you

* * *

A week later, Fury entered HQ and marched straight up to Maria and Bobbi. "Agents, would either of you care to explain why there is a creature in my apartment?"

"Oh, that?" Morse smiled. "His name is Merlin."

"And why is he in my apartment?"

Hill's face grew more serious. "Sir, I think he'll help Romanoff." She then recounted a brief version of the story.

Fury's eyes grew softer, though his face remained stern. "Alright it can stay, but if that thing rips my couch, then it's your paycheck that will suffer. I've already had two get two new chairs because of Goose."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

Later that day, Natasha found Merlin in her room and smiled. Maybe, just maybe friends weren't all that bad.


	17. Chapter 17

**This is it! The chapter you've all been waiting for! Well, I have anyway. I've actually been planing this one for a while, I just hadn't gotten around to reading it yet because of sleeping and Pokemon and binge-watching Lotr and Hobbit. Anyways I hope you enjoy!**

Chapter 17: An Encounter with Winter

Why was this happening? Fury hated her, that's why. Natasha fantasized different ways to kill her adoptive father when the stuffy voice from the back interrupted. "Girl can you hurry up. They need me there. We don't have time to dally." The engineer was a man whose sense of self-importance to the world was, sadly, well placed. He was a genius. He, as he reminded everyone, went to the same school as Anthony Stark, and got a better grade than him in his class. He neglected to mention that said class, was English. That wasn't a surprise. She had studied Anthony Stark as she had helped in the search for him. His vocabulary seemed to consist of me, myself, and I with the occasional, 'I need a drink' thrown in.

"We'll be there in about five hours sir," Nat replied cooly. Maybe she could kill both Fury and this guy at the same time. Yes, they had a nasty fight, Fury snapped and killed him but the engineer knifed him before he died. No, nobody would fall for that.

"Look girl I am vital for this project! If you don't hurry up I'll have to report you to other superiors." Nat could barely stop herself from rolling her eyes.

"Sir, we are on a dark a twisty road above the sea." She said as if talking to a preschooler. "Now, tell me, what would happen if a car like this going above sixty miles an hour in the dark in the rain skidded through the rail, and into the sea...sir?" She added the last as if it were an afterthought.

He replied almost instantly. "Given the height of the cliff and the velocity of the car…"

Nat promptly tuned him out. Maybe she could spin the car off the cliff, his seat belt could get stuck and she would have tried desperatly to save him. Oh, the horror! Many apologies, she would go to the funeral. Maybe a fire started in the apartment. Fury was trapped. Such horror. She was certain this mission was payback for Merlin coughing a hairball onto his pillow last week. It had been a whole year, and although at first Fury had disliked the kitten, he had grown to like him. Even Goose seemed fond of him, grooming him. Though for some reason, Fury seemed nervous whenever Goose licked Merlin. She glanced out the window, she had a feeling something was off.

Four quick succinct shots echoed through the night and the car skidded into the rail. Someone had shot out her tires. The car teetered dangerously on the edge of the cliff. A figure dropped onto the deserted road aiming the gun at the engineer in the backseat. In desperation, Natasha threw herself into the door and the car groaned and plunged into the ocean as the shot missed her ward. The water was ice cold. Nat immediately calculated she had about three minutes before she couldn't force her body to move. She unbuckled her seat belt and swam to the engineer. She already knew his seatbelt was stuck before she looked. She knew because Karma was a sick little какашка. She took out her knife and cut his seatbelt and grabbing him, she dragged him out of the open door. She pulled him towards the surface. For his part, he tried to kick, but he hadn't spent years training in the Russian snow and his movements were slow and sluggish. They broke the surface, gasping for air. She blinked water out of her eyes and saw a small generator of some kind on a tiny cement island. She swam over with engineer in tow, dumping him before pulling herself up.

The man was on his hands and knees coughing. "I did tell you what would happen and I was right." Nat ignored him. Her attention was on the man in front of her. She shot him but he deflected the bullets off his arm. His metal arm. She emptied her clip but every shot was deflected off of his arm no matter where she shot. She paused to draw her second gun and he struck. She shot the man behind her through her. The bullet entered below her ribs and stopped in the man's head. He then slapped her across the face with his metal arm, causing her shot to go wide. The man grabbed her by the throat and she tried to kick him, but he was too far away. She felt her lungs begin to burn with her need for air and she used her widow bites on his metal arm. It dropped her and she had her gun out, firing. This time one bullet got by and hit him in the chest. He was wearing a bulletproof vest. He kicked her in the ribs causing her again to fire wide. He grabbed her guns and crushed them in his metal fist before picking her up by the back of her shirt. He slammed his fist twice into the side of her head. She could swear she saw tiny birds flying in circles around her. He studied her face, seeing she almost unconscious and dropped her on the edge of the small island. He turned and disappeared. Natasha's vision spun. She was into the water up to her waist. That was bad. She needed to move. But she couldn't muster the strength. The last thing she thought as she drifted into blackness, was that she would miss Coop's first experience with cake.

* * *

If this was her idea of a birthday present, then he needed to have a whole new conversation. Nat should have been here an hour ago. She would have finished her mission at three this morning before taking a six-hour flight to the farm. They had delayed breakfast for her. Cooper, who was three months old, kept asking where 'at?' was. Laura had stored the food away waiting for her to come. Nat was never this late without calling ahead to let them know, or being in trouble. He called Coulson again who answered before Clint could get a word in edgewise.

"No Clint there hasn't been any sign of her since you called two minutes ago." Coulson sounded annoyed but it quickly changed to sympathy.

"We have search parties out. We'll find them. Trust me."

"Ok. Ok. Yeah. Ok" Coulson hung up and Clint sighed, running his hands over his face.

"Clint? What's wrong?" Laura hurried over with Cooper sucking on the head of a stuffed hawk.

"It's Nat. She was supposed to be back from a mission seven hours ago. They don't know where she is." Clint hated not knowing, especially when it came to the welfare of his loved ones. He had nearly destroyed the hospital when a nurse, telling him he could not enter the room, teasingly told him there had been some complications with the birth. In his defense, she needed to work on her sarcasm. How was he supposed to know she meant that Coral was actually Cooper?

* * *

Coulson stared out the window. The helicopter with the medical team was close behind. If she was out there, they would find her. They approached a turn in the road and Coulson felt his heart skip a beat. There were skid marks on the road and a broken rail. He looked out the other window hoping to see a beach Nat would have dragged herself onto. He noticed a small generator pump like thing. But what caught his attention was the blood seeping into the water. And the source of that blood. Coulson bolted out of the helicopter the moment it landed. His agent was laying half in the freezing ocean water. The other half was laying in a pool of blood. He knelt by her head, checking and feeling a fluttering pulse.

"Agent Romanoff? Romanoff, can you hear me? Natasha!" No response. The medical team landed and check for broken bones before placed her on a stretcher. Coulson stood up and whipped out his phone and texted Clint.

Get to base now

You found her?

Yes, get here now

Is she alright

Get here now

He then boarded the helicopter with his agent. He sat by her as the medical team worked. Finally, one of them turned to him.

"She's stable enough for now, but she was in that water all night. Also, she lost a lot of blood."

Coulson looked at him both craving and dreading the answer "Will she live?"

The man looked him dead in the eye. "I don't know."

* * *

**Oh, no! Nat might die...oh wait. Never mind. Also, I have a question for you guys cause most fanfics seem to portray Clint as being almost or completely deaf. What's that about? **


	18. Chapter 18

**Hi guys. So this chapter was inspired by a similar one from, I think it was the life of Clint Barton. I don't remember the author but you should totally go check it out. It's basically just a nice little wrap up to the last chapter. I hope you guys like it! And also, next chapter, I'll be introducing a new character of my own making as set up for a future story.**

Chapter 18: Someone Out There

Clint stood silently by Coulson's side. Together they wait as nurses and doctors worked to save Natasha's life.

"She's so young," Coulson whispered. He had known her age, but it hadn't really registered until he had seen her lying on the cement, bleeding. Dying.

Clint nodded. "She's just a kid."

Fury entered the room just a Clint finished his last remark. "She's not a kid. She never had a chance to be one."

The two men looked at him in confusion. "The bullet was a Russian slug." Fury told them.

Clint clenched his fists. "They did this?"

Coulson was horrified. "They already took away her childhood. And now-"

"And now they're taking away her new life." Fury was, well furious. A long silence filled the viewing room.

"Why didn't the engineer do anything?" Clint growled, his voice promising retribution.

"He's dead." Fury responded. "From what we can gather it looks like he was shot in the head, then whoever did this took his body."

"How do you know that?" Clint asked.

"There were drag marks near the brain matter." Fury responded. A brief silence followed in which a nurse came out of the room.

"She's lost a lot of blood, and her body temperature was down for too long. We have her on life support, but you're going to have to make a decision."

"What are you saying?" Coulson asked. He understood, but could not comprehend what he was hearing.

"I'm saying you need to get her family down here, so they can say goodbye." Clint more fell than sat into a chair, while Coulson stood in shock. Fury turned away from the nurse. Who murmured condolence before leaving. Fury looked at Coulson. "Is project T.A.H.I.T.I. ready?"

Coulson blinked. "No, very few of the volunteers survived and the ones that did when crazy." Fury cursed, and Clint suddenly stood up. "I'm going to call Laura. She'll want to say goodbye." His voice almost broke and he left the room.

Clint took a deep breath and called his wife.

Laura picked up immediately. "Hey honey, how is she?"

"She's-" His voice cracked.

"Oh no! Honey I'm so sorry."

"No no, it's not that. She's on life support but, we have to make a decision."

"Do you want me to come down?"

"Yes, please. If you can find a sitter for Cooper. I don't want him to see her like this."

"Alright honey, I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Thank you."

"I love you."

"Love you too, bye."

"Bye."

Clint sighed. He needed to be alone. To think. He wandered until he found himself in the chapel. It was small and very diverse. A Buddha statue was right next to the cross, and the star of David next to the Allah symbol, a crucifix, and a few others. He sat down. Hey, the room was empty and that's what he wanted. He had never really prayed before. He was pretty sure that his mother had said a few prayers with him when he woke up from nightmares. But, as his father pointed out if God was real and good, why do bad things happen? His mother told him once that God is love. Well if that was true, why didn't he do more to stop the evil in this world?

Clint looked up. "Hey, um, what's up?" He didn't get an answer. "Look, I'm new to this whole prayer thing so sorry in advance." Still no answer. "So, yeah. I've got a friend, well, she's more like a little sister, not that I'll ever tell her that, and she was injured, like really bad. She's dying. And I was wondering if maybe you could work some magic and heal her or something? Cause I think she deserves a break. I mean her family died when she was like, five, then she was basically turned into a killing machine and then she finally got a break and got a chance to go straight and then some guy practically killed her and now she's dying and I can't do anything about it, so if you would be so kind as to maybe do something, she can maybe find some happiness." Clint had been letting all his anger roll out in his words but the fact that there was no response made him even angrier. He hadn't expected one, but a sign would have been nice. Something to tell him he wasn't just yelling at empty air. He suddenly collapsed and started letting the anger and fear and frustration and helplessness flood out in his tears. He didn't know how long he cried. He just knelt there, sobbing.

* * *

Coulson sat by his agent's side. He had been wary of her at first, but she had proven her capability and loyalty time and time again. He had come to think of her as a sort of niece. The honor of adoptive father went to Fury, who was arguing with Doctors and nurses outside. He looked at her, and a sudden thought struck him. He had been raised Catholic, not that they had been very faithful, only going to mass on Christmas and Easter, but he had stopped believing a long time ago. He had seen too much evil. But now he remembered that his mother told him to pray if he needed help. Well, desperate times called for desperate measures. "Hey," He thought awkwardly. "Look, I don't know if anyone is out there or if I'm just talking, well, thinking to thin air, but if you wouldn't mind helping out for once? I mean she's just a kid. Give her a break." Nothing happened. He sighed. He hadn't expected, no, no he had hoped that something would happen. He continued sitting by his agent's side, ignoring the rest of the world. Until a long time later he saw her stir.

* * *

Clint didn't know how long he had kelt there, but his eyes were dry and ached, so it probably had been at least an hour or so. He looked up as someone came in. "Laura? How did you get here so fast?"

"Fast?" Laura asked as she hurried over. "I got here seven hours ago and I've been searching for you for like, twenty minutes"

"Oh." Clint blinked.

Laura hugged him tightly. "Have you been here the whole time?"

Clint nodded. Laura laughed softly. "Well, that explains it. About seven hours ago Nat's health has been steadily getting better. She going to live!"

It took Clint a couple of seconds to register the information. Then he smiled and began to laugh.

* * *

Neither Clint nor Coulson ever spoke about it, they just kept it to themselves. It was their sign that maybe, just maybe, there was someone out there.

* * *

**Hope you guys liked it! So FYI, Coulson's past and Project Tahiti I pulled from Agent's of shield, and the fandom website, so that was not me. Got to give credit where credit is due. And speaking of, I realized that I forgot to put this, but the characters and all the Marvel stuff isn't mine. It's Marvels. Only the characters I created are mine. This applies to the entire story. Yay! (Hi thank you Grammarosprey for catching that! I hope I didn't offend anyone. sorry if I did!)**


	19. Chapter 19

**Hi, everybody, I'm back with a functioning computer! Sorry, it took so long but hey, I'm here now! I made this chapter purposefully shorter so I could add a little sneak peek at something I've been working on. Thanks to all you well-wishers out there, and to Some Random Human for looking that up! I hope you all enjoy and hopefully, the next chapter will be out this weekend. (Don't worry they'll do something action-filled then. They won't be boring forever) ; )**

Chapter 20: Another day, another Barton

Nat couldn't help smiling as she pulled into the farm. The sleek black car she had "borrowed" from Fury a while back had unofficially become hers now, and she was perfectly fine with that. It probably was his way of apologizing for that stupid mission he had sent her on. Correction, all the stupid missions. If she never saw Tony Stark again, it would be too soon. She sighed disgustedly. At least she got two week's R and R. She climbed out of the car and unloaded her suitcase from the car. She walked up to the door and knocked. A flurry of footsteps and arguing greeted her. Finally, Laura's voice entered the fray. "Cooper! Be nice to your sister! Lila! Don't push your brother! Cooper what did I just say? Apologize! Lila! Don't stick your tongue out at your brother. If you two don't behave I will not open this door." Nat held back a snicker as there was suddenly a flurry of apologies. Finally, the door opened. "Nat! So good to see you!"

Two-year-old Lila let out a shriek and flung herself into Nat's arms while Cooper crashed into her legs. Nat expertly caught Lila with one arm while hugging the five-year-old with the other. Cooper let go and Nat hugged Laura. She set Lila down who ran off to draw her a picture.

"Where's Clint?" Nat asked. Laura's face grew more serious.

"He's in the barn talking to Marie," she responded.

"Marie?" Nat asked.

"He didn't tell you?" Nat shook her head and Laura sighed and explained. "Well, I don't know the full story, but Clint's older brother was with a girl from the circus, but dumped her when she found out she was pregnant. She raised Marie but six months ago, that mission the Clint was on had something to do with Marie. I know her mom is dead but I don't know about Barney and frankly, I don't care."

Nat shook her head. She felt bad for the girl. She knew what her own parents' death had done to her and she barely even remembered them, but she couldn't even imagine what Marie was going through.

Laura sighed and checked to make sure the kids still weren't listening. "That's not all. Something happened and, she, well, I guess the best term is a werewolf but not quite right."

"Wait, a werewolf? Like Lupin from Harry Potter?" Nat asked.

"No not like that, she looks like an actual wolf."

Nat considered this. "Is she like the Hulk, two different people?"

"Who?"

"Think Doctor Jackal and Mr. Hides."

"You mean Doctor Jekyll and Mr. Hyde? No-no-no. She has full control. Same thoughts and memories just a wolf." Laura replied.

Nat wasn't sure which was more disturbing. A young girl who could turn into a wolf, or Tony Stark's 'last' birthday party. Stark took the cake but Marie's was a close second. Laura sighed again and changed the subject.

"Let me take your suitcase. You can sleep on the couch if you want. Or I could put you up in Lila's."

"As much as I love her I think I'll take the couch." Laura laughed and her remark.

As if summoned by thought Lila ran into the room with a picture of either the Blob's shadow or Merlin. She couldn't quite tell. "Thank you! Oh, it's so beautiful!" Nat exclaimed. Laila looked proud. Then sped off to Cooper who was on the TV.

Laura adopted an annoyed expression. "Cooper! Did you ask to be on the TV?"

"Yeah, Dad said I could."

"Today?"

"Ummmm Well, he said it last night."

"Cooper turn it off."

"But.."

"Now." Grumbling came from the other room and Cooper entered the kitchen looking both annoyed and guilty.

Nat couldn't help smiling. "Cooper, why don't you grab the Diggin Dinos Monopoly game?"

Cooper brightened immediately and sprinted toward the closet. As the woman made their way upstairs, Nat asked: "So what's it like to have three kids?" Laura groaned "I think if I ever have another kid, I'll name them after you, maybe they'll be calm. The woman laughed but still, Laura glanced towards the barn. She hoped Marie was okay.

Marie was in fact not okay. She was the very opposite of okay. She sat hunched into the loft of the barn, hiding in the shadows of some hay bales. Memories swirled through her head. Chaos, fear, fire, and pain. Lots of pain. And loss. She missed her mother. She didn't understand why she had to be dead. Why couldn't she have lived? Why couldn't those AIM, (Amature Idiodic Morons) people have died instead? She remembered her mother holding her before they broke into the apartment. She remembered gunshots. Her mother falling in front of her. Her mom's eyes were empty, devoid of the usual love. The men carried her out, locking her in a dog cage. Then the lab. She shuddered and closed her mind to the horrible thoughts. The barn cat, Moose rubbed against her. She had birthed kittens recently and had been looking for constant food handouts because of it. Marie stroked the cat, who, upon noticing that she had no food, lost interest and stalked back to her kittens. She heard her uncle enter the barn and burrowed deeper into the shadow.

"Maire?" the young girl tried to avoid him but his 'hawk eyes' still found her. He silently climbed the ladder to the loft and sat adjacent to her, perched on a hay bale.

Clint felt his heart wrench. Long gone was his cheerful, peppery, crazy niece. In her place was a quiet, sad, angry girl. He had hoped Nat could talk to her and, when Marie was old enough, train her, but right now she wouldn't even go into the house to meet her. He sighed. He didn't know how to help her. Right now though, he knew that Marie wasn't going to listen to him. Maybe he could make her smile though. He began talking, knowing that Marie was tuning him out.

"So you know how when I was young, I was younger than I am now?"

"Uh-huh."

"Well, one day I ate a sunk who tasted like pants."

"Wow."

"I saw a squirrel poop in the ocean."

"That's cool."

"Yeah,"

He decided to up his game a bit.

Marie was daydreaming when her brain finally noticed what her Uncle Clint was saying. The first tip-off was chunky milk. That caught her attention. Then her mind started to replay the conversation. Something about Broccoli Cheetos and- Horror hit her when she understood what he was saying. "What? You couldn't possibly have survived eating that!"

Barton started laughing. Marie tried to maintain an air of irritation, but a small smile crept its way onto her face. Clint smiled back at his niece, who immediately tried to cover it up with a scowl. He laughed again and ruffled her hair and she couldn't help grinning back at him.

"Come on furball," he chuckled. "Let's go meet your Aunt Nat."

The next morning, Marie lay in her bed, listening to the quiet house. Her wolf sense didn't work very well when she was human, but when she went wolf her hearing was as good as, well, a wolf. But she had slightly better hearing and smell than the average human. She could hear her uncle milking the cow, their rooster, Fury, was going ballistic. He was blind in one eye but that didn't stop him from ruling the roost. Moose was meowing loudly, probably wanting some of the milk, or maybe protesting at her uncle's singing as he worked. Cooper was tossing in his sleep, muttering something about Squidward. Her Aunt Laura was reading a book and the dude, or technically dudess downstairs was silent, probably asleep. Marie rolled out of bed and checked Lila, who was also asleep. She silently crept downstairs and into the kitchen. She was reaching the top shelf in the pantry for a hot cocoa packet when a voice behind her made her jump.

"Here, let me get that."

"Ahhhgg!" Marie whirled around. "He-ey!"

"You're up early," Nat commented, placing the cocoa packets on a counter and reaching for two mugs.

"Uh-huh." Marie was still salty about being scared like that. An awkward silence followed. Well awkward for her, her uncle's partner seems content to watched Marie steadily while pouring milk into the two mugs. It was unnerving, but Marie refused to be intimidated. She lifted her chin and stared right back. She couldn't help but feel a bit smug. Her wolf glare was the best, no one was better at it then she was. Someone had neglected to let Ms. Romanoff know that however because she calmly stared right back. Marie was startled, she only knew five people her wolf glare didn't work on, well six if you counted Goose, but she wasn't sure if he counted, or was even a cat for that matter. She hadn't studied cats a lot but she was pretty sure they didn't smell like an octopus. Anyway, Ms. Romanoff, (she wasn't about to call her auntie Nat), was fixed on adding herself to that list. She tried glaring harder, Romanoff stared right back. They stayed like that for three minutes, until her Uncle Clint came in, whistling. He stopped.

"Well, glad to see you guys getting along." Nat let out a hmm in answer all while continuing to stare at Marie. Marie for her part was getting seriously creeped out. The way Nat was looking at her, she felt like a mouse being stared at by a cat, she felt like this lady just opened up her brain and was sorting through the stuff in there. She could almost feel here looking through all her memories, her fears, her dreams, her- Marie dropped her eyes. She couldn't bear the feeling of someone digging through her mind. She looked over at her uncle who just looked back at her, shrugged, and tromped upstairs. She turned around to see Nat smirking. Not much, just a tiny smirk. But it was big enough to set Marie's blood boiling. Nat for her part just stuck the mugs of milk in the microwave. Then turned around to lean back against the counter arms crossed, eyes on Marie. Marie turned, walking to the couch, sitting, and ignoring Romanoff.

Nat waited, watching as Marie stalked to the couch. Nat had heard from Clint that the girl took the whole staring contest thing seriously, but she only just realized why. Sure she had the whole wolf dominance thing going, but also her eyes were like an open door to her mind. She could see pain, the kind driven by fear, loss, and physical pain. Nat didn't move until the milk was hot, before taking it out of the microwave and dumping the cocoa powder in. She stirred them before putting the spoon in the sink and carrying the mugs to the couch. She offered one to the girl who took it, sullenly and sipped, found it too hot, swallowed, and burned her throat and her mouth.

Marie, for her part, was pissed. She could not seem to get the upper had on this lady! She could be completely silent, sneak up on her, beat her in a staring contest, gaze into the very depths of her soul, and trick her into burning her mouth on hot cocoa. Okay maybe the last two were a bit dramatic, but she was miffed at this person. And the whole silent treatment was creeping her out. She sat there, staring at the ground because she certainly wasn't about to let this lady beat her in another staring contest, and waited for her to make the first move.

Clint sat at the top of the stairs, watching Nat and Marie sit in silence. At least Marie was letting Nat sit close to her. Last time someone had tried to sit close to her without knowing her, well Clint supposed Stark would think twice before sitting next to and insulting his niece. To be fair the seat had been reserved for him but still, Clint probably would have punched him too. He was shaken out of his revery as Maire suddenly spoke, and Clint smiled, now they were getting somewhere.

"So, are we just going to sit here awkwardly or do you want to debrief me also?" Marie asked annoyed at this apparently unbreakable figure.

Nat replied calmly, "Well you don't seem keen on talking about your past and I'm not going to push you." Marie was infuriated. She had kinda wanted to talk to her. She had a suspicion that this lady would understand what she had gone through, but there was no way she was going to be the first to crack.

"Well good cause I don't want to tell you." Her Uncle's partner might have smiled, but Marie couldn't tell.

"Alright, what do you want to talk about," The woman asked.

Marie answered instantly. "Your past." She had her! There was no way she could get out of this one, either she broke first and talked or she wasn't getting anything out of-

"How about a trade. You tell me then I'll tell you." Marie blinked. Apparently, she hadn't quite trapped her. Shoot.

"No, you go first."

"Alright." Marie once again blinked in surprise. She hadn't expected her to fold so quickly. Romanoff took a deep breath, then let it out. Marie waited. She then waited some more. After an excruciating minute of silence, Marie almost snapped. "Well? Are you going to start?"

"Well, where do you want me to start," She asked calmly.

"I don't know, who your parents were, how they died, who took you in and whatnot," Marie said exasperated.

"Why do you think my parents died?" Nat inquired in an innocent voice

"Because I assumed our stories are similar and my mom died and my dad is as good as dead so..." Marie paused, then realized she had just been the first to reveal details about her past. She had lost at her own little game without learning one tiny bit of information from her. She was furious and impressed.

Nat smiled and began coaxing more details and information out of the girl, without dropping anything that she couldn't learn on her own. She learned that her life had been similar to her own in ways. Her mother had been killed, she had been dragged to a strange place where she was experimented on and trained into a tool, then rescued by Clint and was currently healing from her past. Unlike her though, she still had a father, though perhaps father was to nice a word. From what Marie had told her, he had used her mother, dumped her at the first sign of responsibility, and sold them out in exchange for money and a ticket out of the country. From what Nat remember, her father had died protecting her mother and older brother, but Marie had also been rescued earlier than Nat had, so perhaps they both had the short end of the stick. Marie needed time to heal, and Nat knew just how to do that.

After they talked for about an hour, Nat smiled at Marie and said, "Sounds like we didn't grow up so differently."

"Yeah," Marie replied, all previous anger about Nat forgotten, she actually liked this lady and felt more like herself after getting this tragedy off her chest.

"I think I have a solution for you. You have a lot of pent up anger and it is powerful, but if you miss use it, you could hurt somebody. I'm going to train you on how to use that anger. If you work hard, I will be your S.O. once you're old enough to join us."

"Us? Who's us? Are you talking about what you and Uncle Clint do? What's an S.O.? How old do I have to be to join? Can we start training now?" Marie rattled of questions that Nat patiently answered and Clint smiled upstairs. his little furball was back, bright and cheery as ever. Sure she was a lot quieter than normal, not asking very many questions, but he figured that soon Nat would have her chatting like Moose in no time.

When breakfast came around a half-hour later, Laura smiled at Clint, clearly having also picked up on Marie's change of mood. Cooper and Laila were delighted at Marie's friendliness and newfound talkativeness. Clint now worried that once she was completely her old self, they couldn't keep her quiet. He grinned. He couldn't wait for that day.

**And now for a brief preview of another story that will come after I finish this one, featuring everyone's favorite furball.**

"No no no no no!" Marie muttered beneath her breath, "Come on come on!" The prone form of her S.O. lay bleeding on the forest floor. The woman's calf had a nasty bite, and she was unconscious. Already a good-sized lump was forming on the back of her head. "Really Stark, why did you have to go showing off and wind up stranding us in this place?" Marie was rapidly trying to wrap the wound, ignoring protests her injured arm gave, when the hairs on the back of her neck tingled she whirled around, knives ready, to find herself face to face with a bow. The tall red-haired woman behind it glared at her and said something in a language Marie somewhat recognized, but before she could reply half a dozen other bowmen stepped out of the shadows. They took in the spider carcasses, and the woman lying on the ground, and the knives Marie was still holding.

"Lower your weapon, girl." The lady ordered. "We can save your companion's life if you surrender."

"Yeah right, like that's gonna happen." The woman glared at her and cursed in another language. Marie tried to stand up but a wave of weakness washed over her and she collapsed, kneeling on the ground, panting. Another archer appeared, this one with long blonde hair. Marie felt like she recognized him from somewhere, but couldn't place him. "The spider poison is killing her."

"Oh, you don't say!" Marie ground out through gritted teeth and doubled over as another wave of pain shot through her body, forcing her to drop the knives.

The first woman knelt down and grabbed her arm, examining the cut there, and Marie stifled a cry of pain but was too weak to resist.

"My Lord!" A voice called. "We found some sort of identification on the woman. It says her name is A-gent Na-ta-sha Rom-i-noff." Marie tried to say something, but Tauriel touched the gash on her arm, murmuring something in a very beautiful langue, Marie recognized it at last. "You're, that sidekick from that movie!" she exclaimed tiredly. The woman looked confused and slightly offended, but her words had sent Marie into the peaceful relaxation of unconsciousness before she could reply.

The other archers shrugged, not understanding what the human had meant either, and began carrying her and the injured woman back to camp, hoping they were not too late to save their lives. After all, it would be hard to stand trial if you were dead.


	20. Chapter 20

**Hey, guys, I'm back! So I replaced chapter 19 with an actual chapter, but I was told that y'all didn't get an update, possibly because I didn't publish a new chapter, I replaced it. Anyhoo I'm alive and kicking! I would strongly recommend you go back and read chapter 19. Like right now. Did you do it? Good, then enjoy the chapter!**

Chapter 20: A Potentially Sewersidle mission

Nat glared at the door as she scooted over to Clint's unconscious form, cradling his head on her lap, and doing her best to tend to his wounds. This plan had gone horribly wrong. What else was new? She was supposed to have been caught by a suspicious hostile force, and determine if they were being controlled by Doctor Doom and escape, but dumb sweet Clint had realized that something was wrong. The first tip-off was the fact that over her hidden mic, he had heard that Doom not only was controlling them but was there, and Clint had come to her rescue and been caught by Doom, (who of course had this planned and set up from the beginning.) Nat had underestimated him, and that pissed her off, more at herself than Doom. Though she wasn't exactly pleased with him.

She noticed a particularly bad cut on Clint's temple. She tried to bandage it as best she could, but they were limited on what clothing they could tear up. She took off the shirt Clint had given her, leaving her with only a tank top, and began to rip it up when the door began to open. She quickly stuffed the shirt into a small hole in the wall and covered it with the broken chunk of concrete. Doom, for all his obsession with machines and cleanliness, did not keep those standards for his prisoners. She was a little insulted when she had first been brought to their "cell" which was Doom's private sewer. He had slapped metal doors on a pipe and voila, you had a smelly dirty and rat-infested sewer cell.

As the door opened a man peered in and seeing her in a tank top, grinned and stepped into the room. He dropped a water bottle at his feet, and Nat smiled maybe she could have some fun, and maybe escape while she was at it. She heard Clint groan and began to stir behind her. Now was the perfect time to strike. She stood up and seductively walked over to the guard who grinned, setting his rifle aside and opening his arms to welcome her. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. This idiot had just given her his weapon, and an opportunity to take him out. She walked up to him, bent down as if to pick up the bottle, then dropped and swept his legs out from under him with a kick. Before he hit the ground she had him in a chokehold and waited until he stopped squirming. Then quickly retrieved the shirt and began tearing it into long strips.

* * *

Clint opened his eyes to Nat choking out a guard, then tying him up with strips of the guard's undershirt and Clint's shirt. He closed his eyes again. Such was the life of Strike Team Alpha. Every mission went wrong and they always found a way out. This time it seemed like their game plan was to take everyone down with t-shirts. He opened his eyes and stumbled to his feet. "Ow," he groaned. "I hurt." Nat looked at him, startled to see him on his feet so soon. Well, her manner of startled meant her eyebrows were raised about half a centimeter. She finished tying up the guard, and Clint figured Doom would probably take care of him after he learned they had escaped. He would have felt sorry for the guy if he hadn't just tried to kiss Nat and been a complete incompetent fool. Actually no, he wouldn't. Even if that wasn't what he saw through his pain hazed vision. Hawkeye tried to sigh and grunted, which made his potentially broken ribs hurt even more. Nat cast him a worried glance. At least, he was pretty sure she was worried, he wasn't feeling very perceptive right at that moment.

Without needing to talk, Nat tossed Clint the guard's clothes and he agonizingly pulled them over his uniform. Taking the rifle he marched her out and towards the exit. At least, he hoped it was an exit. It had a giant red sign he thought said exit, but his vision was blurry and he almost stumbled as they got closer to the door. Nat kept walking, wanting to dart back and help him, but she couldn't. Not this time.

He inwardly sighed. Soon he would be out in the sunshine and a fresh breeze. They were only ten feet away from the door when a guard stopped them.

* * *

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?" He barked. Or tried to. The young man's voice cracked and he blushed, then shouted. "I asked you a question, soldier!"

Clint just wanted to collapse into a little ball onto the floor and go to sleep. He had been beaten and interrogated and starved for the past two weeks and he just wanted a nice breath of fresh air. And this guy was stopping them because of a superiority complex? And the fact that Clint was marching a prisoner outside alone without backup, but that was irrelevant. He stared tiredly at the man then said. "I'm just following orders. Doom said he wanted to take her outside and feed her to the dogs or something, I don't know. I just want to go on break."

The man hesitated. His boss had said something about his potential and placed him in charge of the patrols, and now this guy was claiming that Doom had ordered the prisoner in his section to be taken outside. This could be a test, or Doom just didn't bother to tell him about his plans. Unless, a light bulb went off in the man's head, but he quickly dismissed it. What idiots would steal a guard costume and try and escape in it? The young man peered closely at the "guard". He did look like the guy who had been captured recently but come on. That's the crazy kind of stuff that happened in movies! The man shuffled his feet. He had no idea what to do, and he certainly wasn't going to go crawling to his boss for orders. Looked back at the man, absentmindedly chewing his lip.

Clint tried again. "Sir, please can I just take her outside so I can eat my lunch?"

The young man squinted at him. Was this guy laughing at him? No, he was just tired-wait! His mouth moved! Was that a smirk, or a grimace. He felt anger rising in him. How dare this lowly foot soldier mock him! He pulled out his gun and leveled it at the guard's face. "You want a break? I can give you a long break if that's what you want!"

* * *

Clint forced himself not to roll his eyes, and look like a tired lazy guard. The young man took offense to his lack of fear and hit him across the face with the gun. "Show better respect to your...betters!" The young man screamed, stumbling over his awkward wording.

Nat was pissed. She leaped at the man, swinging herself into his back and jamming her hand down on a pressure point that would momentarily cut off circulation to his brain, knocking him out. She made sure he was unconscious, then quickly dragged him behind a pile of boxes. She didn't have time to tie him up, but he wouldn't stay down for long. Nat let Clint lean on her as they left the sewers and Clint felt anticipation for the sunshine and a cool breeze well up within him as they stepped out. At first, he was confused, and then he was furious. Outside it was dark and snowing, and cold. And Doom stood in the doorway, followed by half a baker's dozen dogs. Clint could've sworn he was almost as startled and angry as he was. Doom gripped Clint around the throat and lifted him in the air, slamming him against the wall while commanding his dogs to lunged at Nat.

"You!" Doom growled. "You have a thorn in my side ever since you infiltrated my compound!"

"Well," Clint choked out. "You could let us go."

* * *

Doom let out some kind of sound between a screech and growl and a constipated grunt and struck Clint across the face, then slammed a fist into his stomach multiple times. After his little hissy fit, he let an unconscious intruder collapse on the floor then turned his wrath on his other prisoner, who was trying to fend off his dogs. Doom let out an imperceptible growl as he took in the scene. Three of his dogs lay dead while the four others were trying to take the fiesty broad down. As he approached, she used what he could now see was a knife she had lifted off of one of his guards to slice the throat of another. The beast tried to keep fighting but its legs buckled and collapsed right in front of him. He barked an order and the dogs ran over and stood behind him. The woman stood, panting in front of him, knife dripping with the blood of his precious pets. He sighed kneeling to caress the body of his dead creature.

"Such a waste of life. She was expecting, you know. Poor pups, murdered before they were even born. But of course, you're used to that line of work aren't you, Natalia?" Doom smirked under his mask, his sensors detecting an increase in her heart rate. He loved playing games with people's minds. But even more, he loved making them realize how horrible they were. So when the woman spun, kicking at his head, he didn't block or attack. He backed up to the wall and aimed an energy weapon at Barton's head. "So," he began conversationally, "you have a choice. Crawl back to your precious shield, and do your duty, let another one of your friend's deaths be on your conscious. Or, surrender, and try to find a way to escape with an injured partner. Which will be even more difficult, because that was my favorite dog, and I look forward to making you pay for her death. And the deaths of her children. They would have made such good pets!" He lamented. "But the Black Widow had other ideas didn't she?"

His bitter laughter boomed into the night sky. "So choose, Alianova. Choose your life, or his. Because I don't intend on letting you escape into death. Oh no, I will make you watch his pain, then inflict it on you. I will try to keep him alive, to let his pain torment you, but he won't last long. Of course, if you run, your guilt will eat you up from the inside! Ho-ho! I would love to watch that, my love."

* * *

Natasha glared at the man. Years of training in the Red Room told her to leave Clint. "Don't help anyone unless they can help you or they need your trust." Purred the Matron in her mind.

And Clint's voice echoed back. "No! We're in this together." She knew he would do the same thing for her, but he had left her when the first encountered Doom, then come back for her. She didn't know what to do. No, she did. She was not going to let Clint die, and add more red to her ledger, but she wasn't going to let the mission fail. She was going to take option C. She was going to do what she did best. She smirked at Doom, and said…

To be continued….. Hopefully : )

* * *

**Sooooo...I might have made a tinsy little tiny mistake with the ages of our two favorite assassins. Oops! So I will be going back and fixing that, so if you notice a sudden jump in age or time passed up, that's why. Anyway, part two will come out. Eventually. I mean, probably. Just cross your fingers okay?**


	21. Chapter 21

**So...I just realized something. The Black Widow movie, which I am super excited for, probably will yeet this story out the window and tell us what happened. Which is fine. But I think I might make this my second to the last chapter, there's still one thing that needs to be addressed. But I don't know, should I keep going with the story or stop now. I could also just post a series of one-shots. It's whatever you guys want. Anyway, a special thanks to Katie McAlpine! Your reviews were quite encouraging and amusing! And every one of my faithful viewers! Enjoy the story!**

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Chapter 21: The Epic chapter in which Epic stuff occurs. Epic music recommended

"You think you know me? Do you think you can mess with my mind? Well, let me tell you something. You don't know anything about me." Nat then went against every fiber of her being and ran.

* * *

Doom blinked. That was...not at all what he had expected. He shrugged and fired at her back but she had already ducked behind a building. Well, there was one toy gone, he would just have to settle for imagining her guilt eating her up from the inside. He wasn't going to bother scrambling his guards together, she would never let herself be caught by them anyway.

He turned and snapped at the young guard who stumbled out of the building, attracted by the shots and sound of fighting. "Glad to see you've woken up from your nap, was it enjoyable? The man froze. He slowly nodded then quickly shook his head. He tried to stutter out a defense, but it was too late, Doom had fired off three rounds into his chest. "You'll have plenty of time to sleep now." He murmured, then grabbed Hawkeye by the back of his shirt and dragged him inside, leaving his dogs to deal with the young soldier.

* * *

Nat climbed the building she had ducked behind, racing towards the room Doom reserved for "entertaining" his "guests." She had a plan that Doom would never guess. She reached her destination, hiding in the room, and calmed her breathing. Only a few seconds after she settled into her nice cozy air vent, Doom dragged Clint into the room and dumped him on the floor. Four guards scrambled to hang him from chains on the ceiling. Natasha inwardly winced, she knew how painful it was when you got out of that position. Clint was going to be sore for a while. But not for long, because Nat had a plan. She was counting on her greatest strength, being underestimated. Doom would assume that she would wait for back up, then try to get Clint back, because that's what she would do if she still thought like a KGB operative. Doom still thought of her as the young girl who had betrayed him, but he was going to change his mind quickly. She forced herself to wait and watch as Doom toyed with her partner, but that wasn't going to last for long.

* * *

Doom ordered his guards to wake the man up and threw a bucket of snow and water on him. He sputtered and thrashed, managing to kick one of the guards in the head, knocking him back. Doom grumbled and shoved the fool aside. He marched up to Clint, who panted but maintained steady eye contact. "So," Doom chuckled. "You're my prisoner, all alone, without your little friend. How does it feel to be at the bottom of the food chain...again?" The man jerked his head up, eyes blazing with rage.

"What did you do to her?" He growled quietly.

"Don't worry!" Doom laughed. "She'll be fine! After all, you can't kill a dead man! Or should I say, woman?"

Clint snarled. "You're lying! What did you do to her? I kill you son of a b-" His tirade was cut off as Doom grabbed his throat, squeezing tight to cut off his air.

"That's enough. You speak when I say you speak okay? There's a good little birdy." He let go slowly. Clint gasped, looked him dead in the eye, and spit in his face. Doom wiped the spit off and slapped him across the face, leaving ugly gashes. Barton hissed, in pain and in rage, glaring back. Then he fell back to an old old friend. Humor.

"Well well, I see you're still letting 'Mother Russia' use you like a puppet. You know, I heard it's possible for guys to let their minds just go blank, but man! You take it to a whole new level!" He added his best Russian accent to the words "Mother Russia" and heard a snicker from a guard in the back. The Doctor whirled to catch the offender but Doom had the exact reaction he had hoped. Clint knew this man, he may be hidden behind armor and amazing strength. And be a completely different person. But he knew him. He was Barney. A bully and a coward at heart and so he cracked jokes, and teased him, waiting for him to break.

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Nat meanwhile was busy thumping her head on the floor of the air vent. She knew what that idiot was trying to do but she couldn't stand it. Clint had while trying to bait a villain also managed to pull off the single worst Russian accent she had ever heard. It was almost, no, it was painful to hear him butchering the accent so horribly, she was pretty sure that's what made Doom snap.

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Doom was screaming in rage. Clint was dodging his clumsy punches, his minions were laughing at him, and worst of all, he knew he was falling for a trap. He hated being laughed at and the lack of respect drove him into a rage. He took a breath and. He then turned to his minions, lashing out. Killing some, maiming others until the live ones all fled the room. He turned back to Clint ready to slowly murder him when he realized something. Clint and Natasha noticed it too. Clint wasn't the broken down, useless old broken toy. He wasn't a cocky young street urchin or a terrified child on the run. Nor an inexperienced field agent or father or friend. He was Clint Barton. Hawkeye. Husband of Laura and the father of two children. Partner of Natasha Romanoff, and an Agent of Shield. And when Doom turned to face him, he knew he had made a mistake. As made evident by Barton's foot that kicked out at him, catching him in the chin, snapping his head back. And Natasha knew what to do, with no need for words, they had a plan. She dropped from the air vent and followed up Clint's kick with one of her own, only she hit his mask. While he was distracted, Nat tossed Clint a lock pick and turned back to Doom. He stood up straight and began screeching, giving Clint time to free himself. " You pesky little insignificant nothings! How? You have nothing special about you! You have no powers, no nothing! Yet you come here and destroy my plans time and again! How?"

As he paused to take a breath, Nat smirked, just a little and asked, "Are you done or do you want to embarrass yourself a little bit more?" He screamed and flew at them, and the two assassins struck. Doom lay back on the ground. Half a dozen arrows in his mask from a small case of emergency arrows woven into his field gear. On his chest, he had at least a dozen bullet holes, and the only reason he wasn't dead was that the assassins wanted him that way. Nat reached down and pulled off his mask. He was a surprisingly plain man. Light brown hair, tanned skin which was confusing for someone who stayed in a suit of armor all day. Well, it would have been tan if it wasn't covered with large purple bruises. A noise came over their earpieces. "Strike team? Strike Team Alpha do you copy?"

"Yeah Coulson, we're here," Nat replied. "Oh! Well, he's down." She muttered, catching and exhausted and injured Clint. "Mind giving us a quin jet or something Coulson?"

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A few days later, after Clint had recovered sufficiently, Coulson looked in up from his tiny desk aboard the quin jet. A storage room had been temporarily converted into an office and now his agents had entered. "Congratulations. On behalf of shield, I would like to thank you for your bravery today and award you both with a silver eagle." The silver eagle was a sign of bravery and courage within shield. Of course, they could never actually wear them except when they had to go to an officially fancy event. Which they never would. They went through the formal ceremony which was classified because Doom's capture was a secret so their mission was a secret and because shield was terrible at basic cover stories like this, they would just have Coulson hang on to them. As they left the office to clean up, Coulson stopped them. "I just want you to know. I'm proud of you guys." They nodded and left. As they walked through the jet, agents began slowly clapping. They knew Doom had been captured by team alpha. And that wasn't going to stay a secret. The secret agents made sure of it.

Nat and Clint went into the last barracks. As Nat was dressing in the bathroom, a freshly showered Clint turned on the radio, letting it play whatever and stretching out on the bed. The world was perfect. He was going home to a beautiful family and he knew that as soon as they landed, he was going to get a cheeseburger, a shake, and fries. He closed his eyes, falling into a peaceful sleep. Which he was jerked out of quite abruptly when he was smacked in the face with a pillow.

"Hey." An annoyed Nat scolded. "You just dumped your towel on the floor."

"Sorry," Clint grumbled and rolled over.

"Well?"

"I'll get it." He muttered, falling back into a peaceful sleep. Which again was shattered, this time by a wet towel falling in his face. He threw the towel off in Nat's general direction, which she dodged easily. He followed it up with a pillow that caught her in the shoulder. She threw it back and a full-on pillow and wet towel battle began.

Coulson walked up to the door and knocked. And heard giggling and hushing from the room, then an all to innocent-looking Clint answered the door. "Hmmm? Oh hi! Coulson! What's up?"

Coulson glared at him suspiciously. "Please don't tell me that two of the best agents at shield, who recently received silver eagles, are having a pillow fight?"

Clint grinned. "Okay, we aren't having a pillow fig- ow! Hey, that's cheating we had a truce!"

"Hmmm? Oh sorry, that was an accident." Nat called. Clint began to turn when Coulson cleared his throat.

"Here's that secret package you asked for. Don't worry, I didn't tell Nat." Clint's jaw dropped and he began shouting curses and Coulson retreating back. He closed the door and turned, to find himself face to face with Nat. She folded her arms and cocked an eyebrow.

"So, what's in the box?"

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After landing and grabbing some lunch. Clint thought he would have felt relaxed. But Nat had been trying to get the box from him all day. He knew he couldn't hide it, so he had spent the entire day trying to keep it in his jacket pocket. His respite came when they entered Fury's office. And he again did the whole silver eagle speech without bothering to bring the eagles out. They had just finished up, when Coulson bust into the room. "Sir! They got him out, he's alive! Unconscious but alive!" Nat was pretty sure she saw Coulson's leg nearly buckle, but he caught himself.

"Right, Coulson with me! You two, go home." Fury abruptly marched out of his office, Coulson scrambling behind him. The two assassins were left alone in the room. Their minds reeling to catch up with the fast pace things were flying by at.

Clint and Nat looked at each other. There was only one person who could turn Coulson into a drooling fangirl. They grinned, then turned as they heard a gagging noise. Goose was on the desk, trying to spit something up. They looked back at each other.

"I'm off duty." Nat shrugged and they left Goose to finish coughing up something very interesting onto the desk before he disappeared never to be seen again.

* * *

"Happy birthday dear Auntie Na-at, happy birthday day to you!" Sang three little Barton voices. Nat smiled and blew out the twenty-seven candles. The chocolate cake with a smiling cartoon black widow spider was delicious. And she opened her presents. Marie and Cooper had pooled their money and bought her a pair of black running shoes with a white bottom, after hearing her complain about her old ones wearing down. Laura bought her a gray jean jacket. And Clint's was the biggest surprise of all. He and Lila had combined their presents. She had painted the box with a picture of Laura, Clint, Nat, Marie, Cooper and herself with the words. "The Bartons" Nat almost teared up at the picture. When she opened it, she smiled. It was a silver arrow on a chain. Clint smiled back at her. "It's the symbol of the Bartons. Welcome home, Nat." Nat hugged the entire family. Her family now. She was at home.


	22. Chapter 22

**Hey guys, so I decided to end the story here. It seems like a good place to end, but I will start a short story. But my main focus will be on the Lord of the Rings story. I might have a few characters here meet some characters there in a story call Midgard and Beyond, but I haven't started that yet. The one I'm currently starting is called Elven Games and it will be under Lotr books so come check that out! Thank you for all your support and I hope you are all coping well with quarantine! Catch you later!**


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